


everything you want is on the other side of fear

by huntersandangels



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, M/M, War, not an au, poorly written smut, set in the near future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-25
Updated: 2014-09-23
Packaged: 2018-02-06 05:38:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 61,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1846330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huntersandangels/pseuds/huntersandangels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"When they ask you to shoot me<br/>aim some place else<br/>don't aim at my heart</p><p>Deep inside it still resides your youthful face<br/>I wouldn't want you to injure it" </p><p>                                        ~Tasos Livaditis</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Patrick

**Author's Note:**

> My utmost appreciation to [Zarah](http://thesecellardoors.tumblr.com/), without whom this fic wouldn't have been possible. Credit goes to her for the news sections along with my gratitude for her help and support.
> 
> This is the cliche note that reads I suck at tagging, so if something needs to be added or triggers need to warned please inform me. The tags will change as the fic progresses (that is, if enough people are interested in it of course)
> 
> Disclaimer: Slavery was abolished a long time ago. I don't own any of the characters, they belong to themselves. This is a work of fiction, for the sole purpose of entertainment and no profit is made.

“It’s showtime” Jonny says on the other end of the line and Patrick just stands there like a marble statue, feeling completely numb bar from the bile that rises in his mouth, the only indication that he is actually, still, pretty much alive.

His first instinct is to curse at Jonny, yell at him for taking something that Patrick always associated with cheers and happiness and a unique kind of magic and twisting it into something revolting and soul crashing. What holds him back is the tone of Jonny’s voice. It has no indication of bitterness or sadness, not even anger. It’s frightening that the only thing Patrick can sense is resignation.

He had tried so hard to prevent the iron grip of fear reach his heart, he had armed it the best way he could, he’d rather let the pain in, let it scratch and scratch till it found his core than lose the last barricade that would only mean the inevitable ending.

He had dissipated the first signs, having naive faith in peacemaking talks and diplomacy. He had dismissed the hostility in Vancouver as athletic rivalry and had turned it into motivation to win them the game. He had cried himself to sleep when Sharpy requested a trade and had woken up angry at him for leaving, for giving up hope and abandoning them. He had only let himself worry once, when Tyler called alarmed by the riots in Texas; but never, not once, before now, had allowed himself to even feel a hint of terror.

This is different though. He can feel it in his every cell, can trace its route; he can pinpoint the exact moment and each part it creeps into, the way it sucks every other feeling from him until there’s nothing left but trepidation; In the worst possible moment as well. He would huff and scoff at the irony if he wasn’t petrified.

It’s not like Patrick is a stranger to pain, loss or the weight of failure that drags you down. He had experienced it all at one point and had reacted accordingly each time, with devastating consequences even. But in his every downfall, he had found himself looking down at his hands and like Pandora’s Box, what he had seen there was the only thing that made a difference: hope. Now, instead of palms, he stares at strainers that ring all expectations.

ƥƙ

_Winger Patrick Sharp has been traded to the Toronto Maple Leafs, as per request_

_“Now, most players don’t just request to leave a two-time championship team, do they Mike?”_

_“Well, Liam, with the rumoured threat of a Canadian expulsion hanging in the air I expect more developments like this to occur.”_

_“Can you explain what this whole population exchange speculation mess is all about?”_

_“As many of you watching the news here on NBC know that the tragic deaths in both Texas and Vancouver this past few weeks have put a serious strain in the negotiations between Canada and US. Things remain tense and outbreaks of violence continue on both countries. Fearing the situation might deteriorate both countries are considering a population exchange. Stephen Harper and Barack Obama are expected to meet with Knud Bartels in Brussels the upcoming week to start a new round of negotiations”_

ƥƙ

Patrick’s running through the streets of Chicago, mentally chastising himself for being a complete moron, for allowing fear to cement his feet on his living room floor, for wasting precious minutes trying to assess whether walking or driving would get him there faster. He’s rushing and silently praying that he has not missed his chance, that he still has time.

A small part of him knows that stalling was his coping mechanism. If he wasn’t there to say goodbye then the unthinkable wouldn’t happen; kind of like the tree in the forest. If there’s no one there to hear it fall does it make a sound?

He doesn’t want to be there for the swan song, but he is, for all intents and purposes, still a hawk and hawks use their claws to grab hold of things that matter. He chooses to rely on that attribute, the one where they’re still fighters.

When Sharpy had decided to leave, Patrick had made the same argument. “We’re Hawks, we don’t back down and we don’t give in. We stay and fight, against all odds even”.

Sharpy had given him a sad smile and had tenderly ruffled his hair “Hawks are also migrating birds, Peeks. It’s spring and I have to fly north”. 

That discussion had ended far worse than anyone had anticipated. Patrick called him a coward and a traitor, spitting out “I hate you” while he turned his back and stormed off; those where the last words he ever spoke to him. Patrick hadn’t regretted anything that much in his entire life.

 Sharpy had seen the endgame from miles away and had done everything in his power to lead his family into safety before it all fell down. Patrick was just naive enough to have faith, hope and Sharpy’s decision was like a break in Patrick’s armour; a crack that could potentially be its downfall and Patrick couldn’t allow that. He had rued his petulant ways and he had lived with the consequences ever since.

He wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice.

ƥƙ

_Canada and the United States of America have had boarder control conflicts starting from 1812. In recent years the war against drugs has furthered strained the relations between the two countries, as well as concerns over terrorism, illegal immigration, oil rig exports and foreign policy involvement._

_The “Boarder Vision” initiative has placed more power in the hands of the US over boarder control, causing resentment within the Canadian government. It is hard to say which of these were the reason and which the cause for their now irreconcilable differences. What is certain, is the number of casualties that reach seven deceased and more than thirty injured; Americans and Canadians combined._

_Diplomatic negotiations seem to be unsuccessful. The two countries have resolved to have a grace period of population exchange before war breaks out. There’s still some that hope that this matter can be dealt in the conference rooms but most, are already hearing the war drums banging in the background._

ƥƙ

Patrick stops abruptly to catch his breath. He bends down and hides his head between his legs. He’s not sure if it’s from running or if it’s the start of a panic attack. He’s two steps away from the front door and when he crosses that threshold he’ll have to face the beginning of the end.

On the other hand, if he takes too long he might miss his chance. He stands straight and takes the last steps with trepidation.

“Good morning Mr. Kane” the doorman says with a sad little smile and there’s so much sympathy in his tone Patrick wants to cry.

Ben had been his ally in aggravating Jonny, letting Patrick into the building at 4 in the morning drunk out of his mind on more than one occasion, knowing that Jonny as much as he complaint he’d rather be woken up than get worried about Pat’s state. And even at his worst, Patrick had never gotten that much pity radiating off a person.

“Hello, Ben.” Patrick greets because he can’t be a liar and say good morning. There’s nothing good on this day. There’s a sharp inhale and a dreadful question “Is Jonny still up?” 

“Yeah, they haven’t come to take him yet.” Ben shakes his head “I don’t know how we got here” and it’s sincere Patrick knows because there’s not a person who meets Jonny and does not like him. “It’s so unfair” Ben continues “we’re all going to miss him”. 

Patrick just wants to tell him to shut the fuck up. He doesn’t want to have this conversation. He doesn’t want to acknowledge the fact that he would be the one left behind, in a city that used to be home but know seems like a noose around his neck, cutting off his air, suffocating him; a city of nearly 2.700.000 people that somehow seems deserted.

“Yeah” Patrick mumbles because what can he say? He can’t just break down in the lobby and sob about the fact that more than half of his friends are about to be forced out of his life. “I- he’s expecting me, but if you want to call up-“ and it’s ridiculous, he knows, he already has a free pass from Jonny and Ben is so used to him showing up. Today everything is different though, as much as they seem the same. He can’t afford to make a mistake. There’s so much at stake. He can’t have another thing to regret in his life.

Ben smiles “You can go right ahead Mr. Kane”

Patrick nods his thanks and rushes for the elevator. He looks at the floor as he waits for the doors to close because he can’t bear Ben’s ruth. He pushes the button, tracing it lightly with his index finger and smiles at the memory of trying to convince Jonny to put a plate next to his floor number that reads ‘Jonathan Toews: Olympic Gold Medallist, Stanley Cup Champion & Selke Trophy winner’ like a plaque on a high-prestige doctor’s office.  Jonny had called him a moron and had lightly slapped the back of his head. Twice! Because Patrick had re suggested having it as his doorbell sign instead.

The elevator ding brings him back to reality. He walks to Jonny’s door with his hands in his pockets because he suddenly feels fidgety. He sees the fault in his action when he has to ring the doorbell. His hand shakes a little and the sound the bell makes reflects Patrick’s hesitation. He doesn’t hear anything from the other side of the door so he tries ringing again. He stops himself mid-action, hit by a horrific realisation. Jonny’s condo is not that big that would justify the wait. Jonny is stalling. He’s not sure if the person on the other side is a friend or the one who came to pry him away.

Patrick knocks on the door this time, all the while raising his voice to be heard “Hey, Jonny, it’s me”

Shortly after, Patrick can hear the distinctive screech of soles on the floor and knows that Jonny’s coming. The door opens and the first thing Patrick sees, since his eyes are still looking down, is Jonny’s shoes. He’s taken aback by the sight.

“You’re wearing shoes” he exclaims with a disdain in his tone like he’s totally offended that Jonny hasn’t answered his door in his socks.

“Hello to you too, Pat” Jonny replies and Patrick can sense a thinly veiled amusement.

It takes a minute for his brain to catch up on Jonny using his name. He had always been Kaner, sometimes Peeks but barely ever Pat. Jonny had seemed to save it for the rare occasions of drunken state and emotionally charged support speeches.

He shifts his weight on the other foot and hates the fact that this feels so awkward. “So- can I come in?”

“Oh! Yeah, sure- sorry” Jonny says as he clears the way for Patrick to enter.

At first glance, Jonny’s condo seems the same, furniture still in place, TV and stereo right in the corner. Patrick notices the absence of Jonny’s pictures that used to hang on the far right wall. It’s strange that while not empty the house seems somehow bare.

Patrick goes on and sits on his spot. He had called dibs the moment Jonny’s place was fully furnished and had invited him over for Mario Cart. It’s something familiar that stupidly comforts Patrick even if it’s for just a moment.

“Can I get you anything?” Jonny asks, and this is no different than any other time. Jonny is a good host, proper and polite, always making sure to treat his guests right. It angers Patrick that even at this hour Jonny can be this calm and collected.

He shakes his head “No, I’m goo-“he stops the lie before it slips “I don’t want anything, thanks”

“Hey Pat, do you think maybe at any point you’ll look at me?” Jonny asks and makes him realize he’s been avoiding Jonny’s gaze from the moment he answered that door.

“I would, if your face wasn’t so gross” he tries to joke, but all the while turns his head to face Jonny. He regrets it immediately. Jonny’s eyes are red and puffy, either from sleep deprivation or crying, Patrick can’t really tell.

“You like my face, don’t front!” Jonny says and it’s like old times but not. It hurts now.

Patrick tries to retaliate because he had never backed down before “I’d like to punch it that’s for sure”  

Jonny chuckles and it’s hollow and fake. “Am I supposed to hate you now?” Patrick asks, taking him and Jonny both by surprise because he didn’t even know he was thinking it himself and from Jonny’s expression knows it was the last thing he expected.

“I don’t know” Jonny says “Are you? You can if you want to” he adds quietly “I’d rather you didn’t but you know- no one can dictate the way you feel Pat.”

“I don’t-“Patrick rushes to clarify because his plan is already failing, he’s pushing Jonny away and he’s barely been there ten minutes. “I don’t think I could. You can’t be my enemy Jonny. You never were.”

Jonny snorts and stretches his hand to ruffle Patrick’s hair “We never managed to even be proper rivals.”

Patrick unintentionally leans to the touch “Why is that though? I mean- We were young, eager and competitive with practically zero social skills. We should have fought for spots and awards and recognition. Why didn’t we?” and wow he surprises himself yet again; he never knew that that was a question he had been dying to ask for years.

“I first saw you when I was about eleven” Jonny replies “You walked in with your stupid flip-flops and unruly curls and started gearing up looking like a kid playing dress up. But you had that spark in your eyes, such determination; you held your ground like you belonged. It earns enough respect, that kind of will.”

“So- what you’re saying is that I wooed you with my charm and awesome skills?” Patrick tries to joke because the air just shifted and for some weird reason it makes Patrick’s heart clench.

“Yeah” Jonny says and it’s so quiet and hesitant, like it physically pains him to utter the word.

“I couldn’t have done it without you” Patrick blurts because it’s the truth and Jonny needs to know “None of it- any of it- I don’t know. You’ve been there every step Jonny. You held me up even when I tried to push myself down. I- thank you. Just, thanks. For never giving up on me, for believing I can do better, be better. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry I made your life difficult by being me.”

This is Pat’s goodbye. They both know it. This is him trying to not leave things unaddressed so he isn’t left behind living with regrets.

“It went both ways” Jonny admits “I leaned on you just as much, maybe in a different kind of way but never think otherwise. I was always grateful to have you there, Pat.”

Jonny barely ever talked feelings, not because he didn’t have any but because he felt too much. And Patrick knows it’s his goodbye as well. He also knows it will be the last he talks of it.

“Why Jonny? Why- why did this happen? We don’t deserve this” Patrick lets the tears roll on his face now, he can’t hold back any longer. From all the things Jonny ever thought he didn’t deserve, this right now, was the only one that was true. None of them deserved this kind of fate. It’s cruel and unfair and Patrick thought he lived in a world that fights injustice not causes it.

He can feel Jonny’s arm wrapping around him, placing his head gently on Jonny’s chest. He can feel him rubbing soothing circles on his back. “I don’t know Pat” Jonny answers and there’s a crack in his voice as well.

They stay like that for a while until Jonny gently pushes him away a little so he can look him in the face. “I love you” Jonny says after a bit, after gathering enough air in his lungs to be able to get it out.

“I love you too, Jonny” Patrick says “you know that.” Because of course Jonny knows. Patrick had told him before.

Jonny shakes his head. He gently cups Patrick’s neck with one hand while whipping the tears on his face with the other “No- I- I _love_ you, Pat” he says again and Patrick still doesn’t get it. They’ve said that to each other multiple times, the whole team had.

What changes this time is that Jonny slowly lowers his head and touches Patrick’s lips with his own. The gesture is so soft in contrast with Jonny’s chapped lips and so quick, just a butterfly touch Patrick might have though he imagined it if his lips weren’t left with a weird tingling sensation.

Jonny tries to say something, Patrick thinks, but he can’t be sure because he’s still trying to process what just happened but they get interrupted by the phone ringing. They both freeze. They know that ring. It’s not an incoming call; it’s from the front desk.

Jonny tries to get up to answer it and Patrick instinctively raises his hand to hold him back, to hold on to him. There are so many things he didn’t have the chance to say yet, so many questions unanswered and the feeling of Jonny’s kiss burning his lips like it tries to keep the feeling permanently raises quite a few more.

Jonny touches Patrick’s cheek caresses it softly “This is a battle we can’t win, Peeksy. There’s no sense in fighting it”

He leaves before Patrick has a chance to protest. He whispers something on the phone and when he hangs up he retreats to his bedroom. He comes back a minute later with two suitcases in his hands just as the doorbell chimes.

 They look at each other; Jonny white as a sheet, Patrick burning hot from anger. Jonny’s grip on the suitcase handle is so tight his hands are turning a shade of purple. They barely even breathe, afraid that even the tiniest of sounds will cause everything to fall apart. They only just kid themselves of course. The end is not near, it has already come.

The bang is so loud and hurried they can’t pretend not to hear it. The people on the other side identify themselves and call for Jonny to answer. Patrick goes instead. He wants to do this for Jonny. It will be the last thing he ever does. He wants to spare him just for a moment. He also, selfishly, wants to walk inside again and find Jonny waiting for him there.

He doesn’t have a clue what to expect but being faced with a US military man accompanied by what seems to be a Canadian diplomat is not what would have crossed him mind.

“Mr. Toews?” the Master Sergeant asks. Patrick can identify his rank by his insignia. He has never hated the sight of a man in service before in his life. It pains him now to look at the reversed American flag patch on the man’s right shoulder.

Patrick motions them towards the living room; he doesn’t trust himself to speak.

Jonny’s still there, just the way Patrick left him, like a painting sat on a gallery wall in full display.

“Mr. Toews, my name is Julian Gauthier and I’m Canadian Embassy’s Charge d’affaires. This is Master Sergeant Wilson and we’re here to escort you to the airport” he says in a monotone, all calm and professional, no trace of feelings whatsoever.

Jonny nods “I’m ready” he replies and Patrick can hear the lie loud and clear. He tries to find a way to pull both of his suitcases at once but only manages to stumble on the couch corner.

“Here, let me help” Patrick offers, trying to make it easier for Jon and distract himself from falling apart.

They walk out of the condo and after Jonny locks the door behind, Master Sergeant stretches his hand going for the key.

Patrick is taken aback by the gesture. “Jonny what’s going on? This is your place; your things are still inside”   

Jonny huffs but it’s soft and fond “You still refuse to watch the news, don’t you?” He gestures towards the door “It’s not mine any more Pat.”

Patrick doesn’t get a chance to ask why. “The immigrants are allowed to only carry ‘portable’ belongings, according to previously submitted lists.” Master Sergeant says instead.

“What about his condo, his furniture? what about his car?” Patrick asks again, this time with a raised voice.

“A Commission will decide the total sum of Mr. Toews’ immovable belongings and he’ll be provided with new possessions totalling those he left behind when he reaches Canadian soil” the diplomat tries to reassure.

“I-“ Patrick has no words, he didn’t know, he refused to listen any details of the expulsion. “Okay” he says defeated.

Jonny reaches for his wrist “It’s okay, Pat, really”

Patrick wants to call him out on the lie. Nothing is ok, nothing will ever be again. He lets Jonny guide him to the elevator, sticking close, trying to absorb the warmth Jonny radiates, to inhale his smell, imprint it in his memory so he’ll never forget. He’s not going to sit and ponder this new need, not now; there’s no time.

The lobby is empty bar from Ben who looks sad and guilty at the same time and Patrick never knew that that kind of expression even existed.

“Goodbye, Mr. Toews” Ben greets

“Goodbye, Ben. Thank you for everything” the always polite Jonny replies.

Somehow Patrick had untangled himself from Jonny’s side, suitcase no longer in his hands, and he now watches him reach the front door. “Jonny, wait” he shouts unnecessarily because Jonny is not that far away he wouldn’t hear him.

Jonny halts immediately. He turns to Pat and he doesn’t know if what he sees on his face is query or expectation. Patrick can’t make his feet to move as much as he tries. Jonny walks towards him, suitcase still in hand. He raises his free hand on Patrick’s face and traces the half-circle under his eye with his thumb. “showtime, baby ” is all he says.

Patrick launches to him, grabs his shirt, clenches and hides his fist there, pulling Jonny down towards him. He doesn’t know why he does that. He says to himself that it’s for Jonny; a going away present, giving him what he might have hinted he wanted. The way his tongue invades Jonny’s mouth and the hand that grips his hair make him a liar. This is not for Jonny; this is for him. He wants to be able to remember how Jonny tasted, like protein shakes and peppermint toothpaste; like bitterness and sadness; like loss and heartbreak.

He feels Jonny being pulled away from him and sees a hand on Jonny’s arm. He lets go of Jonny so abruptly he causes him to sway. “Get your hands off him” he shouts and tries to force the Sergeant’s hand from Jonny.

“Hey, hey, Pat. It’s ok” Jonny tries to sooth him “He’s just doing his job. Let go, please”

“He doesn’t have to force you! You’re not resisting!” Patrick keeps protesting through shouting.

“Mr. Kane, I’d advise you to let go of my hand if you don’t want to be charged with abstraction” and it sounds like a threat “Some might consider your doing as an act of treason, you know” he adds and if the other one wasn’t, this one definitely is.

Patrick does something he had never done before in his life. He raises his fist to punch someone. Jonny catches it mid-air “Don’t” he commands. He just used his captain voice and Patrick files it on the list of unfair things. “Please” he begs and that’s what makes Patrick let go.

Jonny holds his chin up and meets his gaze “Stanley Cup Final, we’re losing by one, 30 seconds left on the clock. What do we do, Kaner?”

“We keep trying” Patrick replies immediately, straightening his back, resuming fighting pose.

Jonny shakes his head “No, Pat. We turn to you because we know you’ll step up. We know you’re not gonna let them take it away from us. Hold strong, Kaner” he says and winks. It makes a tear fall from his eye.

Patrick lets his own tears flow freely “Aye, aye Captain”

Jonny hugs him; clutches the back of his shirt like it’s the Final and they have just won. He raises his mouth on Patrick’s ear and whispers “I love you”.

Then suddenly, Patrick is left standing there watching Jonny being escorted away, hands still stretched the way he had them wrapped around Jonny. He collapses on the floor, weight too much to bear. He hides his face in his palms and cries.

This time it’s not for the expulsion, it’s not for the image of Jonny’s back that can’t leave his eyes, not even for the ominous future that’s ahead. His tears are for his own stupidity, for the lost time, for the missed opportunities, for his inability to understand sooner why Jonny has always been different from Sharpy, or Duncs or any other guy on the team for that matter; why he had always been Patrick’s rock and his comfort, the one who could drag Pat out of his own head and save him from himself; why one disappointed look from Jonny hurt his heart more than a thousand harsh words by the rest of the world.

Patrick could see a play from miles away but apparently was blind to things that actually mattered. “I _love_ you” he chants over and over again, barely a whisper; a secret that he himself never knew it existed inside him; a secret that had only just revealed itself to him.

It makes no difference. Jonny is not there to hear it.

ƥƙ

 


	2. Jonathan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for the lovely comments, it means a lot
> 
> I don't speak French. If those parts are a complete disaster it's Google Translate's fault.  
> I'm also European and I don't quite know the Canadian army process. The CFB & 17 Wing is indeed located in Winnipeg according to my internet search & I tried to be as close to accurate as I could.

  
_“get up Johnny boy, get up ‘cause the world has left you lying on the ground_  
  
_get up Johnny boy ‘cause we all need you now”_  


 

Jonny doesn’t let himself crumble until after everything is settled. He gets back home trying to numb his pain, shut it out, conceal everything, bottle it inside. It’s not the time to feel, it’s a time to do. So that’s what he does. He talks with the Government Officials, he gets the keys to his new house and car, gets reimbursed for his remaining belongings and hides from his mom as much as he can because he can’t face her and outright lie.

He plays it cool, always calm and collected, talks about the unfortunate of the situation and his belief that they can get through it and somehow get out of it stronger than before and basically feeds everyone the version of the reporter’s speech he had mastered as the Hawks’ captain.

When it’s all over though, he retreats in his home; not the new one, that’s not home for him, that’s a constant reminder of all the things he lost and those he left behind. He gets back at his condo, the first purchase he made as a legal adult, and hides.

He hides from his family, his friends; he hides from the world. If he could, he’d be hiding from himself as well but no matter how much he tries, no matter how far under the pillow he buries his head, no matter how tight he shuts his ears with his palms or how long he squints his eyes, he just can’t escape the voices in his head and the images behind his closed eyelids.

When Jonny told Patrick that he loved him, he wasn’t being selfish. It wasn’t the coward’s last chance to come clean and he just took it. It was his parting gift to Patrick. He wanted him to know that somewhere out there was another person, not obligated by DNA, who had seen him both at his best and worse and loved him unconditionally not despite those facts but because of them, of all the things combined that made Patrick unique. He needed Patrick to be aware of the fact that in a small place of this world there would always be a person who hoped that he was truly well and happy, because if anyone deserved the best that was him.

Jonny also wanted to stop lying. He thinks he fell in love with Patrick a little the same moment he watched him walk in with his flip-flops, those tousled curls and the bright smile. He thinks he fell a bit in love with him when he himself wasn’t even aware what being in love meant.  

Jonny had never lied to himself; not about the admiration or affection he had for him, not the irritation and illogical anger that he felt at times. Jonny knew, he just couldn’t define it. It just kind of hit him one day, watching Patrick laugh at a probably stupid joke Burish had made. The sound of Patrick’s laugh made his breath hitch and for some weird reason everything clicked; he was in love with him, deeply and unconditionally, the kind of love that doesn’t just marks you but defines you.

That’s when his half truths started. Jonny learned to live with them, accepted even the tiniest bit of attention or affection that Patrick was willing to give him. Much to his delight, and incredible guilt, Patrick was generous when it came to feelings and he just stood there and took them, even if he was deceiving Patrick by making them into something they probably weren’t.

That was Jonny’s truth. He thought he knew what Patrick’s was as well. But those lips on his, the tongue in his mouth, the flavour of pain and abandonment he tasted there, the desperate cling of Patrick’s hands in his shirt, those were the things that made him doubt. Is it possible that Patrick had been giving him half truths as well?

The voices in his head he doesn’t seem to be able to shut up tell him that it was Patrick’s goodbye, his own gift to Jonathan. Not quite pity but farewell; a thank you maybe for being there. But Jonathan never sought a reward, not gratitude. He only wanted to give Patrick all those things he thought he deserved.

Everything is different now and Jonny can’t do anything but cry for the lost moments, the opportunities he missed and the things he could have possibly had if he had been honest from the start. He also cries for the other possibility, the one that reads that Patrick just lost a close friend and nothing more. He doesn’t cry for the war, Chicago, or even hockey. He cries for a future he could have built and a love that he would never again find.

This is Jonathan’s truth. He is hopelessly in love and inconsolably half; a romantic jock who never took a chance for fear of losing everything at once.

This is Jonathan’s truth. He is most likely a fool who grabbed onto one tiny spark of hope that would have never built a fire.

Ĵƫ

Jonny lets himself wallow in self-pity because he has no other choice. For once in his life he’s not responsible for anyone rather than himself and that proves to be harder than he would have ever imagined. He’s still semi-functional; he goes to the store once a week, he calls his mother every few days and sends a couple of texts to David and Dan but only because they threatened him with physical violence. He can feel their worry and hates it; not the fact that they care about him, but the fact that he is the reason they have one more problem to deal with.

Jonny is not depressed like they fear. He may sit on the floor occasionally with his back on his bed and his knees close to his chest, may stare a little too long at Patrick’s picture and even has conversations with it and he may wear the shirt he stole from Patrick’s place for a week before it loses all of Patrick’s smell but it’s not like that. It’s a grieving period he knows he has to go through.

He has the isolation part covered and by the state of his bedroom and various other places that are littered with broken things he thinks he has anger down as well. The mourning is an ongoing process he doesn’t think will ever get passed but he keeps failing at bargaining. He has no clue who to fight and with whom to plead. His ultimate struggle though is with acceptance. How do you quit your dream and give up on hope? Most importantly, how do you go on if you do?

He doesn’t get to figure out the answer. There’s a knock on his door at 8 o’clock on a Friday morning. Jonny had never been a morning person and if he hadn’t stayed awake all night he could have slept through the sound. He answers the door in a semi-decent state and is faced with a frown and a uniform.

“Mr. Toews?” the uniform asks

“Yeah-Yes” Jonny croaks

“Mr. Toews, I’m Lieutenant General Anderson, 17 Wing Royal Canadian Air Force. May I speak with you?” the uniform- Lieutenant General asks.

Jonny is trying to be as polite as possible and make his mother proud “Of course, please come in”.

LG Anderson takes his wedge cap off and tiptoes around the mess Jonny had made to get to the living room.

Jonny is quite embarrassed by the state he’s been found “Please, take a seat. Excuse the mess”

LG Anderson gives a small head nod in answer but the judgment is clear on his face.

“Mr. Toews, I’m here on behalf of Winnipeg’s 17 Wing to offer you a position in our Air Forces. Mobilization has not taken effect yet but it’s our next step if the draft proves to be ineffective. This country is on the verge of war and upstanding citizens as yourself would be an asset to the cause.”

Jonny blinks confused, somewhere between Air Force and upstanding citizen “What does that entail exactly?” he asks more from surprise than curiosity.

“From sixty to a hundred days of training in our base here, parachuting and combat, then a place at our National Defence Headquarters in Ottawa for the remaining period in-between”

“In between what?” Jonny interrupts and the LG makes his disapproval clear.

 “The time between the completion of your training and the official declaration of war” he replies with what Jonny thinks is considered scorn in the Canadian Air Force. “We offer you, provided that you succeed in your training period,  the Flight Lieutenant rank, currently known as Captain, as we thought fitting to your previous status” LG continues, clear that he does not agree with the decision. 

 “And if I don’t accept?” Jonny asks and if LG Anderson hadn’t hated him before he sure does now.

“If you decline the _honour_ ” he stresses “then when mobilization takes effect you will be placed in whatever unit and position you are needed at the time.”

Jonny is uncomfortable with the proposition and the scrutiny he’s being subjected to “How much time do I have to make a decision?” he asks, quite reluctantly as well and as soft as possible because the last thing he needs is another sign of disapproval.

“Forty eight hours. Provided that your answer is affirmative you are required to report to the base at 8:00 Monday morning” he responds while standing up, having obviously done his patriotic duty for the day.

Jonny follows him awkwardly to the door to see him out. Lieutenant General Anderson places his wedge cap on his head, straightens his posture and graces Jonny with a half nod before he leaves him with one more baggage in his collection to carry and a double-edged decision to make.

Ĵƫ

Jonny goes to his parents’ house to avoid any war thoughts and stumbles upon a civil one. He doesn’t think he had ever heard his mother shout in the house. He’s pretty sure that the few times she raised her voice were at some of his games when she got a bit too excited. They were always so calm as a family in whole, discussing rather than yelling.

His mom is screaming in French at least, so that’s comforting, it’s something familiar in which he can count on. He suspects that the fact that David replies to her in English drives her madder than whatever they’re arguing about.

Jonny clears his throat loudly to get their attention but doesn’t seem to work. “Is this a bad time?” he asks sarcastically and on second thought it could have been a bad plan.

“Jonathan, mon petite garcon!” his mother exclaims and Jonny figures that not having seen your son in more than two weeks gets you a free pass on improper manners. “Dieu merci, vous êtes ici! Peut-être vous pouvez parler un peu de bon sens dans votre frère” ( _thank God you’re here! Maybe you can talk some sense into your brother_ )

“Oh my God mom, give it a rest already” David says clearly fed up “No one is going to change my mind”

Jonny is still pretty confused. Clearly coming home to get away from drama was a bad move.

“Votre frère est devenu fou!” ( _your brother has gone insane_ ) she says completely ignoring David’s outburst “Allez! dites-lui! dire à ton frère ce que vous voulez faire!” ( _go on! Tell him! Tell your brother what you want to do!_ ) she yells, gesturing towards her youngest son.

Jonny turns his gaze from his mom to his brother and is faced with a look on David’s face that clearly states ‘come on, I dare you’. It might also mean ‘butt the hell out of my business’ Jonny can’t be sure.

“Maman, calme, s'il vous plait”, Jonny tries softly, rubbing her back gently. He turns to David “What’s going on here Dave?”

“I’m enlisting and mom has lost her shit” and wow clearly David has spend too much time with the wrong crowd in the States or he just tries to piss their mother off even more.

Jonny is taken aback by the sheer determination of his brother’s words. He knows David enough to know he means it and there’s no way he’s backing down.

“Can we talk about it?” he asks instead, to appease his mom a bit and try to understand his brother’s side a little better.

“I’m sick and tired of talking about it! I’ve been talking about it for a whole week, which you could have known if you picked up your phone once in a while, so don’t just stand there and pretend to care!”

Jonny’s not gonna lie; his brother’s words hurt. They hurt because there’s so much truth behind them. Not the not caring part, but the fact that he had been so consumed by his own pity party he hadn’t thought how the situation had affected others.

Jonny walks closer to David but keeps a safe distance “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’ve let you down and that’s on me, but I do care about you.”

David snorts in derision but Jonny can sense the hurt behind it. They were never attached at the hip but they were close as siblings and one time his brother needed him Jonny hadn’t been there to back him up.

 “Where are you off to, then?” he asks because he does care and he does want to support his brother. It’s an unnecessary argument they’re having, he knows. Lieutenant General was clear about the war plan. Mobilization; no one was going to get out of it.

David eyes him suspiciously and their mother just stands there confused and disappointed. She was really hoping Jonny would change his mind. “CFB Winnipeg at first but I’m not staying. Parachuting is not for me. I’ll probably be relocated somewhere else as soon as possible”

Jonny nods “I’ve been offered a position there this morning” he supplies. He wasn’t going to mention it until he has given it some thought himself first but there’s no point in having the same discussion twice so he might as well come clean about it “Up to about a hundred days training then a Captain’s rank and a place in Ottawa until the war”

He doesn’t have to look at his mother to know she’s crying, holding her breath while waiting for him to say if he’s taken the position.

“Are you going?” David asks

“I- I don’t know. It happened this morning. I didn’t have time to think about it” replies honestly. He shrugs and continues “It makes no difference. The LG who came told me that mobilization is coming.”

“You should take it” David says again and it’s not so much an advice as a statement.

Jonny shrugs again “I told you, it doesn’t make a difference. We’re all going eventually”

“It does make a difference” David says fiercely “It’s one thing to want to fight and another thing to make you”

“And who do you want to fight exactly David? the same people who not long ago were your friends?” Jonny is appalled by his brother’s attitude; he would have never pegged him for a bellicose patriot.

“Things change Jonathan! Wake up and look around you. I’m not gonna roll over and give up over some misplaced sentiment.”

Jonny shakes his head “Mom is right. You _have_ gone insane”

“The world has gone insane! I’m just following the current” David counter-argues.

“What happened to you?” Jonny asks and it’s sad and afraid at the same time

“War happened” David replies. “No time to live in the past dear brother. Do you think they care about you on the other side? Do you think that Patrick-Captain America-Kane won’t jump the opportunity to wear the blue, red and white he so much adores in fear of shooting you in the head? You’re delusional!”

“Fuck you!” Jonny screams because that was a low blow and it was intended to cause harm.

He turns his back because he wants to punch the smirk out of David’s face and turns to hug his mom. “Je suis désolé” ( _I’m sorry_ ) he says softly.

“Qu'allez-vous faire?” ( _what are you going to do?_ ) she asks voice full of fear.

Jonny shakes his head “Je ne sais pas” ( _I don't know_ ) he replies honestly. He kisses his mother’s cheek and leaves.

If Jonny hated the war on principal before he loathes it now because it keeps destroying everything beautiful in his life without even having started yet.

Ĵƫ

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [tumblr](http://oflovesandlikes.tumblr.com/)


	3. Patrick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fact that this is the work of fiction, and most importantly because I can't make sense of a world where Bollig doesn't play for us anymore, I have included Brandon in this chapter (I hadn't intended to before) and we had never let him go.  
> On the Brandon note, there's a Bollig/Shawsy reference because I love them too much to pass that opportunity. (yes, I also refuse to spell Shawsy with a z, I'm weird like that)
> 
> I don't know if it's my antibiotics or this chapter truly is kind of weird but if you have the same feeling you're probably not mistaken.
> 
> I should maybe warn for an excessive use of the word 'asshole' as well 
> 
> and thank [Zarah](http://thesecellardoors.tumblr.com/) once more for her endless patience ("are his stitches like a skilled embroidery on his soft skin" was solid gold! I'm sorry I didn't get to use it)

_“down these mean streets a man must go_

_who is not himself mean,_ _who is neither tarnished nor afraid”_

Patrick has been doing a lot of thinking lately and the first conclusion he came to was that he may, possibly be a bit of a masochist. He doesn’t know how else to explain the constant pattern of self-destructive acts.

His suitcases have been packed since the day Jonny was taken away. Four days: ninety-six hours, 5760 minutes, 345600 seconds; Patrick hurts each and every one of them. He considers going back to his usual way of dealing; bury himself in a bottle enough to numb him, make himself dizzy enough to not be able to think, disoriented enough to not know that he’s still here when others have left, pass out so he won’t be able to feel the hurt.

He doesn’t. Instead, he finds a more painful way to hurt himself.

He walks the streets of Chicago, he finds himself opposite of Jonny’s building, remembers the first time Jonny invited him in his new condo. He closes his eyes and pictures all the little details. Jonny’s well-stocked fridge, the way his blender had a prominent space in the counter, the red Gatorade that Patrick loved in the right corner of the bottom cupboard, the box of choco-pops he hid behind Jonny’s oatmeal, the horrible tasting Canadian beer Jonny used to love. It takes him by surprise to realise just how many mornings he spent in that kitchen having breakfast and mentally slaps himself for having missed the signs. Patrick had brunch at Sharpy’s at least once a week but never had his own cup or his favourite bowl and he had to bring his own drink if he didn’t like what Sharpy was drinking, but at Jonny’s the little things he loved were there waiting for him. It hadn’t crossed his mind before that maybe Jonny was doing the exact same thing- waiting.

Patrick had a toothbrush on Jonny’s guest bathroom, on the rack there it used to lay the shampoo he liked and his favourite body wash. Whenever he needed to use the shower, Jonny would lay out his sponge, that green loofah that left his skin all silky, his comfortable sweatpants and one size larger t-shirt were resting in a drawer ready for him to wear if needed, clean and ironed, meticulously folded. Jonny’s soft, fleece blanket that Patrick used to steal on cold nights to curl on the sofa had a permanent place in the guest room as well after a while. He had a home, away from home, away from home if that makes sense. It didn’t to Patrick; not when it mattered. He had never noticed before.

  Jonny’s living room had no paintings, no over-expensive pretentious art that screams millionaire. Jonny’s walls had exactly five framed pictures. Jonny and his family on New Year’s, all dressed up and looking sharp was hang in the middle. David and Dan next to the swimming pool when they were about twelve looking grumpy and Jonny beaming with a raised fist like he had concurred the world was sat next to it. Jonny wearing his gold medal was right below them. Blackhawks winning their first Cup was at the right hand corner. Below everything, prominent in the middle of two empty sides stood the one photo that should have clued Patrick in on what was happening. Jonny and Patrick, young still, eager and hopeful, in front of the net laughing. Well, Patrick was laughing, head thrown back and dimples popping, Jonny with a lowered head trying hard to suppress a grin. Patrick had taken Jonny’s explanation to heart. He was his friend; they started together and remained as such, something familiar and constant, dynamic duo, the face of the Hawks. It didn’t seem like a big deal.

Patrick had a few pictures with Jonny on his wall as well. Granted, his were not framed, he had one of those bulletin boards where he pinned his favourites; pictures with his sisters, one of him sitting on the floor playing with Mandy,  Jonny and him playing video games at Brent’s place from when Jonny lived there, that silly one with Shawzy on the boat, group photo of the Hawks in the tour bus from their first Cup parade, him and his grandpa playing chess, friends from back home, notes and cards from holidays and birthdays; family and friends oriented and it made perfect sense.

He drives by the UC, and pictures flash before his eyes like a movie. He can see Jonny shoving him away while he and Sharpy laugh to a stupid comment that made Jonny angry, he can picture Jonny waiting patiently for him next to the car after a game when they carpooled, beanie shoved low to avoid the cold and hands tucked away in his pockets, he remembers Jonny hugging Patrick’s mom hello before opening the door for Donna and Andree to give them a ride to whichever restaurant they’d pick to dine them, can picture Jonny giving him a small nod with a closed off look at a particularly bad night after a huge loss; countless instances and different scenarios.

He knows that if he were to enter the rink there wouldn’t be a corner that didn’t have a Jonny memory in it. It’s weird just how many things Patrick didn’t know were imprinted in his head. He drives around Chicago a bit more, passes by their favourite restaurant, the ice cream place where conveniently Jonny was passing through a lot before showing up at Patrick’s with a box in his hand, the park Jonny used to drag him for a run, that corner near Patrick’s house where the words ‘in my previous life I was the Berlin wall. The beer was better there’ were written on and Jonny used to tease him that he was probably the one who wrote them in a drunken state.  He thinks that he could roam the streets for days and still have places and memories that hadn’t revisited. He hadn’t been aware before just how big a part of his life outside hockey Jonny has been. What makes it more intense is that they never really were joined at the hip, didn’t spent all their free time together but they still somehow managed to create all these moments that were truly theirs.

The next thing Patrick does is go home and spend hours re-watching videos. He avoids the internet because he has become paranoid and thinks his activity might be traced. He takes out his camera and watches everything that he remembers involves Jonny. He watches games and interviews as well. He comes to the conclusion that even though Jonny never voiced it, it was evident in everything he said and did; from the way he smiled when he talked about him and the way he hugged him on the ice to the look on his face and the tone of his voice; mostly, the silence no one could hear. He digs through his closet and finds gifts Jonny had gotten him; silly little things Patrick thought were meant to mock him or expensive stuff that were saved for special occasions and he realizes that each and every one of them had been personal; not intimate but not random things to just get over the  gifting obligation.

Jonny had been in love with him and Patrick had been blind.

ƥƙ

Patrick guesses that now is time to reflect back on his own behaviour, try to understand why Jonny’s lips on his felt so right, why one small touch fit like that little piece of puzzle that makes the image clear, but he’s not ready yet.

It’s not like he’s having a bi freak out; he had his fair share of handjob exchanges in juniors and he had participated in a jerking off circle, he was given a blowjob by a guy in one of his wild drunken nights and he did spent a ridiculous amount of time in hotel bathrooms after being turned on by Jonny working in his underwear. In retrospect, the last one should have clued him in, but he never thought of it as anything other than hormones; Jonny was weirdly attractive for some reason. He’s ok with himself in that aspect, the physical one. Sure, he figures he has some things he needs to explore further but that’s not his focus. It’s not physical attraction he’s concerned with; _feelings_ \- that’s the one thing he had never added in the equation. It’s the one thing that makes all the difference.

The thing is he is attracted to Jonny and he loves him, totally and completely. The big question is: is he _in love_ with him? He supposes he is, but he can’t be sure. It’s hard to identify something you have never felt before. He’s afraid that maybe all this emotional overloading is somehow misleading him into thinking he is. That’s what he needs to figure out and he doesn’t trust himself enough at this point to do it alone. He needs to get outside perspective or else he’s going to drive himself insane.

His logical first step would be to call one (or all) of his sisters, women are more observant and intuitive, very in touch with their feelings and he knows fist hand they’ve been in love (as much as he hates it- they’re babies for the love of God) and can identify the signs. He opts not to for now. He is not ready for that conversation.

Normally, he would call Sharpy. Sure, he would laugh at him probably and say something cryptic because let’s face it he can be a bit of an asshole, but Patrick knows he would have gotten an answer in some form or another. Sadly, Sharpy is long gone and Patrick is not going to dwell on that because he already feels himself drowning, he doesn’t need a push.

He checks through his phone and that proves to make him more miserable because he wasn’t even aware of how many exactly his Canadian friends were, not before it was too late. Then he sees it! This number he can use and he’s actually the perfect man for this discussion. He should be nervous but he’s really not. Brandon, for all his tough exterior and fear-inducing physic he’s actually judgment free and an excellent listener.

It takes exactly four rings for Brandon to pick up “Hey, there Kaner!” he tries to sound cheerful and bless him for acting like nothing has changed.

“Jonny is in love with me” is what Patrick blurts out and it’s a little muffled because Patrick tried to get it out in one go while attempting to breath at the same time.

“Are you telling me or asking me?” is what Brandon says and God Patrick could kiss him for not doing the whole condescending ‘good to hear you too, Kaner, I’m fine, so glad you asked’

“Telling you” he states

“Can I ask how you know that?” Brandon says and it’s reluctant but not surprised.

“Jonny. He- he told me-“

“Before he left?” Brandon cuts his confession short

“Yeah”

“It makes sense” Brandon says and Patrick can almost picture him nodding his head in affirmation.

“No it doesn’t!” Patrick protests but he doesn’t know why; probably because nothing makes sense to him at this point.

“It does for Tazer. He hates lying. Coming clean when there’s nothing left to lose would be the only situation he’d allow himself to actually voice it”

“Firstly, when the hell did you become Dr.Phil and secondly, why the fuck aren’t you surprised”

“When I had the misfortune of joining a team that consists of the most obtuse people in the sport and because I already knew” Brandon replies.

 Why Patrick thought that Bollig wasn’t an asshole is a mystery to him now “How did you know?”

“Same way you did- Jonny told me.”  Although he can’t see him, Patrick’s sure Brandon just shrugged like it was not a big deal.

“And you didn’t think to mention it to me?” Patrick feels betrayed somehow; unjustifiably but he can’t help it.

“It wasn’t my secret to tell, Kaner. It’s not like we discussed it thoroughly, it just came up in a conversation; he and I were on the same boat”

Patrick chokes on air and his eyes widen “You’re in love with me, too?”

Brandon burst out laughing, the ugly kind, the mocking one.

“It’s not funny asshole! Quit it!” Patrick does sound a bit offended, not that he wanted Bollig to be in love with him but he doesn’t get the joke. Patrick is very lovable he’d have you know!

“Sorry, kid! It was kind of funny. You’re not my type though. Your hair is too fair, your eyes are too blue and your skin is too...unblemished.”

Patrick stays quiet for a bit. He knows there’s a riddle there, the answer is on the tip of his tongue, he should know it, he thinks he does he just hasn’t pieced it together yet.

“Anyway- that’s not why you called, so what gives?” Brandon asks but Patrick doesn’t quite listen.

“Kaner? Are you still there, dude?” Brandon asks again, a bit concerned.

“Kaner?”

“OH. MY. GOD! OH. MY. GOD! SHAWSY!” Patrick yells, apparently after having a revelation.

“Yeah” Brandon admits and it’s neither hesitant nor shy.

“What the fuck, man? Why didn’t I know that? No one tells me anything!” Patrick full pouts, lower lip and everything. It doesn’t matter that Brandon can’t see him.

“I didn’t want to talk about it. I still don’t. Tazer didn’t ask questions, he just got it. He was the only one who knew”

“Are you- how are you dealing?” Patrick asks after a bit because he sees Brandon’s admission under a whole new light.

“I’m not” Brandon admits “The land of denial is a beautiful and peaceful place”

“Do you want-“ Patrick hesitates “Can I do anything? Want to talk about it?”

“Nope. Not ready. But thanks. I, however, want to know the reason why you felt the need to call me and inform me of Jonny’s feelings for you”

“Deflection! I know that strategy. Ok, but if you ever-”

Brandon huffs “you’ll be the first one I call- promise” he says and it’s a little bit condescending but Patrick doesn’t mind. “Back to my question now”

“Ok, doctor, should I lie down before you psycho-analyze me?”

Brandon laughs again “I don’t know Kaner. Is, whatever you want to tell me, session worthy?”

Patrick takes a deep breath “Am I in love with Jonny?”

“Sorry, Kaner. I don’t do mind reading.”

“I don’t want you to read my mind, dude. If I had this shit figured out do you think I’d ask?”

“I don’t know what you’re asking me exactly. Do you want my opinion? Because if you don’t tell me you’re in love with him how am I supposed to know?”

Patrick rubs his forehead with his palm, this is giving him a headache. “Outside perspective. Everything is so messed up in my head, Brandon”

Brandon hums like he gets it. “I don’t really know how others work Kaner, love is complicated and different for everyone. Do you know how some say that there are the little things you notice that others don’t that matter?”

“Like what?” Patrick asks genuinely curious

“I don’t know- like, a specific expression or a telltale gesture that only makes sense to you? Kind of clues you in on what the other is feeling?  Or like, that something you spot and reminds you of them?, maybe a lyric or a song  you associate them with? Maybe, perhaps, an inside joke that no one else gets and if they do they just don’t find it funny at all? Like, little memories that were only yours and theirs?”

All the while Brandon speaks, Patrick tries to picture it; every scenario. Jonny’s slight forehead twitch when he’s surprised, the way he fumbles with his beanie when he’s nervous, that huff he does when he’s not really annoyed but wants you to think he is, the way he sometimes smiles and Patrick knows it’s not genuine because it doesn’t reach his eyes. He thinks about that picture of the black and white cloud that read ‘eh?/eh” he had sent to Jonny because it said Canada edition and Patrick had thought to mock him (at least until Jonny explained to him where that was from and Patrick ended up crying - just because Jonny is a massive asshole who ruins people’s fun doesn’t mean it doesn’t count) or the 4th of July fireworks video he sent every year because even though Jonny had no respect for the Holiday he did love the fireworks and Canadians weren’t cool enough to have that kind of awesomeness. He thinks of Biel and the clutch in his chest when he randomly heard ‘Go, Johnny, go’ on the radio one morning. Countless stupid things they’ve said through the years, the way Jonny would snort a bit at a particularly funny incident and the guys would look at him like he was weird but Patrick was smiling all the way through.

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” Brandon asks out of nowhere

Patrick gives a little giggle “Yeah. Do you?”

“Every day” he says and it’s not sadness that pours through the phone, it’s longing.  “For me, though, it’s the important bits that make it real. How he was the first person I turned for comfort because he was the only one who knew how to make it better, or the first one to share great news with because him knowing made it somehow real, how hard it is to breath when he’s not around, how-“

Brandon pauses and Patrick can tell how difficult it is for him. He feels like such an asshole, what kind of person subjects someone in such a cruel emotional torture just to figure out their own crap? Seriously, who does that? Apparently, Patrick does.

“-how you can’t imagine living in a place where they are not there.” Brandon adds

“Brandon-“Patrick says softly, and he’s not ashamed to admit he’s tearing up a bit. This is some depressing shit, he thinks. Why did he have to be so selfish and do that to him. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have- if I knew...I’m really, sorry”

Brandon tries to muffle a sniff on the other end “No, come on, don’t. It’s ok. It’s something I’ve learned to live with and you know what? I hope this helped. I wish it makes a difference.”

“I don’t- Can we really? I mean, it feels pointless now; too little too late and all that. I’m here and he’s not and who knows if we’ll ever-“and even if he has it on the back of his mind he doesn’t have the courage to admit it; never sounds so final and Patrick is just neither ready nor willing.

“I know. On my good days, I think it rationally and say that this won’t last forever”

“And on all those other days?” Patrick asks

“I spent them in the glorious island of denial where everything is beautiful and nothing hurts” Brandon replies and there’s a laugh there, not genuine but as close as he can probably master.

“I thought de-Nile was a river not an island. You fail at geography dude” Patrick says in a weak attempt to joke and lighten the mood.

Brandon does laugh at that and Patrick feels a little better. “Because my young friend, you can’t sail a ship in the river, only boats travel that way.”

Patrick wonders if he and Shawsy ever talked about taking a ship and cruise the islands, pretending to be actual captains. He doesn’t ask, he figures he did enough damage already. “Mine would be a lake. It freezes in the cold, hard winter and you can skate on it.”

“Of course it would. It’ll probably be named Toews and you’ll have a wooden cabin and you’ll get sick of eating fish at summer.”

“You’re kind of a dick, you know that?” Patrick says because that’s exactly the thing he told Jonny when they first gave his name on the lake and that stupid dork built a cabin nearby.

Brandon chuckles “Fully aware and proud of it.”

Patrick doesn’t know what else to say. There’s not a subject he can touch that is emotionally safe for either of them. “Thank you” is what he goes with.

“Anytime! Take care, Kaner and don’t be a stranger.”

“Yeah, you too”

Patrick is about to hang up when he hears Brandon say “Hey, Kaner? One last thing- Did you ever wonder why none of your relationships worked or why you never seemed to like any of Jonny’s dates?”

-then everything goes silent.

“Fuck” is all that Patrick can master to mumble because how could he have missed that? Not the feeling that there was always something lacking in his personal life, he was always aware that they just weren’t _the one,_ but the way he wanted to tell the others that Jonny doesn’t like it when you ruffle his hair but enjoys playing with the short ones at the nape of his neck, how he finds strong and heavy perfume repulsive and makes him cough, or how you can’t just throw away the straw from Jonny’s drink because Jonny always, always saves it for him to chew on it when he’s done;

they were doing it all wrong, everything-

-they weren’t making him happy; they didn’t know how.

The saddest part is, that apparently Patrick knew how, he always have known even if he wasn’t consciously aware, but he had this sick feeling inside that most of the time he was the reason of Jonny’s hurt and that- that made him worse than all of them combined.

ƥƙ

Patrick continues his search, because it can never hurt to double-check, right?, by doing the responsible, adult thing.

He googles it!

He actually types “how do you know when you’re in love” and because Google is your friend and never disappoints you he gets a link to a page. 3 sections, 17 steps ‘How to know if you’re in love’, with pictures!!

He scrolls through and it’s all a variation of ‘does they make you want to be a better person’ or ‘are you the better version of yourself when you’re with them’ to ‘do you see their flaws and can accept them and can you really be yourself around them’ or something close to ‘do you enjoy your time together? does they make you laugh?’. It goes on and on pretty much like that and by the end of the article Patrick is positively sure he had found the answer he’d been looking for.

Since he’s a feelings guru now and he had made every emotion his bitch (always classy that guy!) he figures he has only one thing left to solve and because true to its reputation google had proved to be a solid friend Patrick starts a new quest: he delves in the depths of gay sex (no pun intended).

He’s not concerned about the NSA tracking his moves, it’s not like it’s unpatriotic to consider having gay sex and it’s not like it will actually make a difference to his search if that dick is Canadian or not so he sees no harm in using the powers of the net yet again without fear.

It turns out to be a far more exciting research, one with no emotional baggage. He gets bored quickly with the handjob tips because let’s face it, a) he has mastered the craft b) he is absolutely brilliant with his hands and he can flick his wrist excellently (ask the opposing goaltenders if they can stop crying long enough to answer you), he skips the lube tutorial because he does know which to use with condoms and which on bare skin, and he’s not  on unfamiliar territory when it comes to anal sex as he had tried it with a couple of girls before.

He focuses a bit on blowjob techniques because that he had never done. He thinks he has the tongue part covered, he just needs to remind himself that dicks are not mouth guards and you’re not allowed to chew on them (you can roll them around your mouth, though - kind of). He finds himself to be a bit concerned about whether or not he’d like the taste but he figures that even if he doesn’t he wouldn’t mind finding ways around that; the internet seems to have multiple suggestions, from candy to chocolate and whipped cream and Patrick’s confident he can manage.

What he spends a long time on however, is the ways of self-fingering and prostate location/stimulation. He reads and reads, he watches a couple of videos as well which are not helpful at all (except for the fact that they kind of make him want to shove his tongue in Jonny’s ass and that on itself is a very significant revelation) and takes the next logical step.

Apply theory to practice.

It starts nice and simple, gets a bit weird but not uncomfortable a bit later, gets discouraging when he loses his boner a couple of times while he tries to get deeper and he feels the burn and the stretch, and he grits his teeth when his wrist starts to cramp but he doesn’t give up.

He doesn’t get it on the first try, not on the second either but by the fifth he can easily take two fingers and he’s brave enough to start exploring. When he finally finds the right spot, because Patrick Kane never fails, and has the most mind-blowing orgasm of his life, he can’t help but feel a little cheated; such a shame to have wasted years without having experienced that!

ƥƙ

Patrick is finally ready! For the first time in his life, he has managed to have both his physical and emotional aspects sorted out and he can take the last step!

The realisation hits him as he goes to grab his phone to call Jonny.

He can’t-

All the Canadian numbers are obviously blocked.

That’s when he feels it- he can’t help the resentment from spreading through him. He has been so lost in his own mind, trying to figure everything out that he had somehow forgotten that everything he went through was for nothing.

Jonny’s not there-

He’s not there and all had been in vain and Patrick punches the wall because-

Jonny isn’t there-

He curses the walls and shouts at his empty house and yells how it’s so unfair because-

Jonny isn’t there-

The ‘fuck you, Jonny’ falls into deaf ears, so is the ‘asshole’ that follows it because-

Jonny isn’t there.

He also screams ‘I hate you’ from the top of his lungs because, (fortunately this time)-

Jonny isn’t there to hear it.

ƥƙ

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [tumblr](http://oflovesandlikes.tumblr.com/)


	4. Jonathan.Patrick.Jonathan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> does anyone still read this?

****Jonathan****

 

Jonny had no intention of fighting; he had no delusion of a higher cause that would make all this anguish worthwhile, he never understood how spilling blood and taking lives can make the world a better place. This is not why Jonny is here; he’s not here due to some patriotic duty, he’s not here to break his mother’s heart either, even if it might seem like that to her for now.

Jonny is here because he needs to regain some sort of control over his life. He supposes that going with the lesser of two evils is still a choice and that’s what he did; he made the one that would allow him to –up to an extent- get a say on where he’ll be and what he’ll do. He always worked better with rules and guidelines; he needs this kind of false stability.

He’s been here for almost fifteen days and he has surprised himself by how easily he fell into an everyday routine.  He’d say it reminds him of training camp a bit if it didn’t hurt too much to think of hockey. He chastises himself the first time he thinks about it because though the similarities are obvious -the exercises, the sweat, the effort, even the matching uniforms- the differences are the ones that are made more evident. Jonny is not surrounded by friends whose only goal is to give their all to be able to wear a ring around their finger and hoist the Cup in the Chicago sky. He’s surrounded by strangers whose only goal is to eviscerate human beings to achieve domination.

He has never been a person who made friends easily but in his two weeks here, besides the few exchanges in the training field no one seems interested enough to get to know him. He doesn’t know if he gives out ‘leave me alone’ vibes or if his posture and expression turns them away but sometimes, uncharacteristically so, he finds himself craving interaction.

That’s why it takes him by surprise when, while sitting in a table vainly trying to disassemble a firearm, someone blocks his light.

He hears someone clearing his throat, indicating an attempt to grab his attention. Jonny doesn’t let go of his firearm but he does turn to the side with a frown on his face. There’s a kid there, wide-eyed and lanky, twisting the cap in his hands nervously.

“Umm... I... hello?” the kid stammers and Jonny finds himself trying to give the kid a reassuring smile.

“Hi” he supplies, it’s an appropriate conversation starter he assumes.

“I’m...you’re...” the kid’s ears turn a bright shade of pink and he tries to swift his weight between his two feet.

Jonny can’t help but raise his eyebrow questioningly “Yes?”

“Johnson- eh, Brent Johnson” the kid mutters and then he groans at how stupid he probably thinks he sounds.

Jonny chuckles a little, enough to convey he finds it endearing and not making fun of the poor kid. “Toews- Jonathan Toews”

“I know” the kid- Brent says and as soon as the words fall from his mouth he clams a palm on his lips.

Jonny full on laughs “Good, it makes it less awkward for me than having to explain who I was” and the past tense is a conscious decision because now he’s just plain Jonny.

Brent smiles cautiously “I- I wanted... I just wanted to say hello?” he says but he phrases it like a question. “Big fan” he adds after a heartbeat, presumably before he loses his nerve.

Jonny nods his head “Thanks, buddy” he says, because that’s his default response. He had never quite grasped the right answer to someone’s admiration. “Do you want to sit?”

Brent’s eyes light up “Can I?”

“For sure” Jonny replies and proceeds to clear the table’s side opposite of him.

“Thank you!” Brent exclaims as he sits, while taking something out of his pocket and placing it on the table, like Jonny had just given him a precious gift he’d never thought he’d get.

“My pleasure” Jonny says back “I can always use the company” and it’s not a lie now that the words are out of his mouth. He hates the silence because it gives him time to think the things he’s trying to avoid.

Jonny hears a few gasps from the direction Brent had come and turns around to see what’s going on. He watches a group of guys looking their direction; well, staring might be a more appropriate term.

Brent clears his throat again “They... they didn’t think I could do it”

Jonny focuses his attention back to Brent “Couldn’t do what?”

“Come and talk to you” he replies shyly

Jonny is amused, he doesn’t know why. He leans closer to Brent and fake-whispers “Do they think I bite?”

Brent giggles and it makes him look so young Jonny can’t help but think that this kid has no business being here “No, I’m just not good with people”

“I think you’re doing great buddy” Jonny reassures him and Brent smiles shyly.

They fall into a somewhat awkward silence after that. Jonny’s thinking of getting back at task trying to find a way to disassemble his firearm but opts not to because it seems quite rude.

“So-“he tries “how did you end up here?” he asks, partly because he’s curious and partly because the current situation makes him uncomfortable.

“I enlisted the day after my eighteenth birthday” Brent replies

“Why?” Jonny blurts surprised.

Brent tilts his head towards the group of guys he’s been with “looking out for Bryan”

Jonny knows Bryan Campbell; they’ve had their firearm training all week together. Jonny is not afraid to admit he’s a little scared of him. It’s not because he’s tall and muscular with a kind of threatening stance. He has this empty look in his eyes and Jonny kept wondering all week if he’s that brave or just recklessly stupid. He can’t think of any situation Brent would be capable of helping him and not the other way around.

Brent must have sensed something of sorts or it’s just that evident on Jonny’s face “I think... I’m scared that- I think that he’s on a suicide mission” he whispers.

Jonny’s first instinct is to respond with ‘aren’t we all?’ but something in Brent’s trembling lip makes him stop. He swallows uncomfortably because how do you reply to that? “Um...I- are you sure?” and that’s just plain stupid so he follows it with “Do you think we should tell someone?”

Brent shakes his head “Bryan doesn’t do therapists. The one time I convinced him to come with me he lasted ten minutes before shoving his fist in the mirror and fleeing”

Jonny is not sure what baffles him more, the situation in itself or how easy it is for Brent to tell that to a complete stranger. It also takes him by surprise just how many questions he’s itching to ask.

He doesn’t get a chance though. Brent shifts uncomfortably and promptly gets up “I’m sorry” he mutters “I- I didn’t mean to unload on you. I- I got to go. It was nice meeting you”

Jonny stands there stunned by the sudden change but he recomposes himself quickly “Hey, no problem buddy. It was nice meeting you as well”

Brent gives him a quick headshake and everything in his posture tells Jonny that he’s struggling with the urge to bolt.

“If you need anything...” Jonny offers because that’s who Jonny is; he’s the kind of person who takes every suffering in his shoulders even if the burden isn’t his to carry.

Brent’s expression hardens for a second and Jonny thinks he might have overstepped his bounders. The kid just stares at him for a while and then he visibly relaxes “Thank you” is all he says before leaving.

Jonny doesn’t follow him with his eyes. He sits there staring at the firearm in his hands wondering what kind of torment someone could be going through inside to choose such a way to end his misery. He’s not quick to judge but for a flick second he can’t help but think of it as the coward’s way out. He regrets it immediately and feels ashamed of himself.

Some people walk around with scars inside and others with open wounds. Scars have already healed, you carry them with you as a reminder but open wounds still bleed, they may even fester.

Jonny is still an open wound. He might fester as well one day.

 

Ĵƫ

 

**Patrick**

 

Patrick returned to Buffalo right after his big revelation. It felt like the last string that still held him in Chicago finally snapped and there were no ties left. It took him exactly three days to feel that he didn’t belong to Buffalo either anymore.

Patrick is a wandering ship without a star to guide him and without an anchor to keep him grounded. Most days, when the refusal to deal with anything takes him over, he feels like floating. Most nights, when dreams turn to nightmares he feels like sinking.

He tries spending a lot of his time at his parent’s house but everything has changed there as well. His mom has volunteered in a church group that helps gather supplies for the upcoming war and come up with safety plans. His father continues to spend his days at work like cars is something people are concerned with at this point. Erica and Jessica have gone a step further and have enlisted to the Red Cross; they had both left for nurse course training. Jackie is the one he holds onto.

“Chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream or red velvet cupcakes?” Jackie asks. It’s a game they play, old and familiar, trying foolishly to get a sense of normalcy back.

“Why do you have to go with the hard choices?” Patrick groans

“Don’t be such a baby” Jackie chastises

“God, fine! Ice cream, I guess”

“Shocker!”

“Shut up!  You’re horrible! I don’t know why I come here! Abuse is the only thing I get anyway” he replies dramatically.

“You love it! It keeps you on your toes. Your comebacks suck though”

“Whatever! A day without electricity or a day without your cell?” Patrick asks with a smirk on his face. He can taste the revenge in the tip of his tongue.

Jackie scrunches her nose “No cell! I can use the laptop you dumbass! Did you really think you can win at this? I’m a champion bro!”

Patrick definitely does not pout “Fine! No new clothes or no new shoes for a month?” he counter asks

“Shut up! It is not your turn!” Jackie protests and Patrick should have thought of that question before “Only snow or only rain for a week?”

Patrick is about to huff because that’s not even a choice, it’s always been snow for him, the smell, the texture on his fingers, the cold icy breaths, the sound of skates leaving marks, but the words refuse to leave his mouth “Only rain” he says defeated. Snow meant hockey and hockey meant Chicago and Jonny and Patrick can’t have either of them.

Jackie gapes at him and it takes her exactly three seconds to realise her mistake. “God, Pat I’m sorry”

Patrick waves a hand dismissively “Don’t worry about it”

“This is such a stupid game” Jackie says “Let’s do something else” she offers

“It’s no big deal Jacks, I’m not gonna break, ok? It’s fine”

Jackie shakes her head “It’s not” she says and Patrick understands that this is not about the game anymore.

“I know” Patrick says and holds her hand. Jackie squeezes his in return.

“She keeps pushing me to join” Jackie says after a bit and it’s not whining, it’s frustration

“I know”

“I don’t want to”

“I know”

“I want- I wish- I wish I could leave” she whispers

Patrick is really startled by the admission “And go where?”

Jackie shrugs “I don’t know. Europe maybe. They’re not likely to get involved right?”

“Foreign policy is not my thing, Jacks. You’re the smart college student”

“We can go to Switzerland. They’re neutral. You can still play hockey and I can learn French or German and eat all the chocolate. Wouldn’t it be great?” and it’s less of a question and more of a wishful thinking.

“Didn’t have much fun the first time around” Patrick replies, trying hard not to grab hold of an unrealistic plan

Jackie elbows him in the ribs playfully “That’s because I wasn’t there with you”

Patrick forces a smile “Probably”

“Definitely” Jackie responds with a wink. “Think about it Pat. There’s nothing for us here anymore. Only war talks and plans and hate, so much hate! I don’t want to be a nurse, I don’t want to gather cans and medicine, I don’t want to fight. I want to go to school and bitch about deadlines. I want to be able to call Kayla and not have her number blocked. I want to see Jeremy fidget and blush as he asks me for a date. I don’t want him wearing a uniform and getting killed.”

Patrick lets Jackie burrow under his arm and strokes her hair “They’re going to make you go too. I don’t want you to- I don’t want to lose you Pat” Jackie full on sobs now.

“Hey, hey no one can make me go Jacks. I’m not going anywhere, ok? They can’t force me to fight”

“Yes they can! And they will! Didn’t you hear the news? They started drafting, Pat!”

Patrick freezes. Of course he didn’t know. He doesn’t open his TV any more. He doesn’t listen to the radio either. “I- That doesn’t mean I will get drafted Jacks. There are so many people out there”

Jackie raises her head to look him in the eyes “Seriously? You think they’ll let you get away with it? Patrick Kane, hockey poster boy and enthusiastic patriot?” she doesn’t actually call him a moron but Patrick hears it nonetheless.

“Just because I played hockey doesn’t mean I’d make a good soldier Jacks. They want people ready to fight”

“How can you be so naive, Pat? They don’t care. All they want is bodies with guns in their hands; they want blood and triumph and caskets with American flags to pin medals in the chests of their grieving relatives.”

Patrick tries to swallow past the lump in his throat “When did you become such a drama queen?” he tries to tease

“Laugh it up asshole” Jackie says and detaches herself from his side “I’d be the one who has to bury you!”

“Oh. My. God Jacks! Calm down! I’m not gonna die, ok?”

“How do you know?”

“As if there is anyone out there that could deprive the universe of my awesomeness! The world would be an empty place without me.” It’s fake and pretentious but Patrick has to at least try.

Jackie walks right in front of him “Promise me” she commands

Patrick wants to. He wants to reassure her and ease her fear but he’d never lied to her, he’s not sure he’s ready to start.

“Promise me, Pat” Jackie practically begs

“I- I promise” he chocks out as fast as he can.

Jackie raises her palm and extends her little finger “Pinky swear” she says and Patrick has the urge to empty his stomach right there and then. That had always been their thing, ever since the girls were little. No one breaks a promise when there’s a pinky swear involved; Kane siblings’ tradition.

“Patrick? Pinky swear” she says frantically.

Patrick raises his finger and entwines them together “Pinky swear” he says and tries to sound convincing.

Behold Patrick Kane, former NHL player, big brother still, possibly, soon to be a perjurer.

Ƥƙ

 

**Jonathan**

 

Jonny’s whole body aches. It’s not unfamiliar but the commonality doesn’t make it comforting. He spent the whole week inside a simulator learning how to stand and when to bent his knees, how to extend his arms and curl his body, when it’s the right time to open the parachute and how to pull the strings but nothing prepared him for the actual act of falling off a plane and dragging himself through mud to lay mines.

There were times he thought of quitting. He doesn’t want to be here, he doesn’t care about the war, he wants to smell ice and practice face-offs, wants to hear his stick hit the puck and the delightful sound it makes as it enters the net. He misses the buzz and the cheers. He misses his friends and Patrick’s warm smile.

Brent has made his days less lonely, including him in his circle, but somehow Jonny can’t help but feel he exchanged one Brent for another and this one lacks in comparison. He knows he’s being unfair to the kid but it’s out of his control. It scares Jonny just how helpless he feels not being able to control his emotions.

He focuses on the task and forces himself to go on by setting standards. He tries for better posture and quicker time; he challenges himself to be the best and measures his achievements against Bryan’s. He needs that competition. Jonny thrives under pressure and uses Bryan’s recklessness as a point he needs to reach by finding a way to do so without endangering his life. If he can level himself with someone that seemingly has nothing to lose he thinks he can call himself a winner.

He has the feeling that Bryan is on to him and aids his mission in a subtle way. Jonny loves the push and pull. It reminds him of the ice and the way his teammates provoked his reactions by making it harder for him; pushing him to do better, be better. He has come to respect Bryan, even if this mystery that surrounds him makes Jonny uncomfortable.

Jonny was never good with riddles and the whole Brent and Bryan situation is an enigma he has yet to decipher.

Jonny can feel Bryan approaching so he claws harder and digs deeper, finally resting the mine in the dirt and covers it up, rolling away as carefully as possible. The fake explosion has him on his feet in record time, forgetting the safety precautions and Jonny will dwell on his stupidity later.

Bryan laughs at Alec and his now black-smoked face “You’re dead soldier!” he exclaims and that much glee is nauseating.

“Fuck off, Campbell” Alec retorts and it’s equal parts anger and embarrassment.

“My, my, aren’t we touchy this fine day?” Bryan continues to mock.

“Laugh it up asshole! Let’s see how you’d like it when you get hit” Alec shouts back and it’s weak but he never backed down before, he’s not about to start now.

Bryan gives a mocking curtsy “It would be my pleasure”

Alec is used to these morbid declarations and does not falter “I’d be delighted to watch”

“I’ll make sure to save you a front row seat then”

Jonny figures that this is the moment to intervene. It’s a drill and Jonny needs to keep the group together if he wants to get that Captain rank he’s been promised. He remembers when he first got the hockey C in his chest, how awkward and shy he was; how he couldn’t raise his voice and could never manage an uplifting speech but that was years ago and Jonny had improved. The same dynamics apply still, even if something greater than a win is at stake here. Jonny knows that the way to be a decent Captain is to earn respect, not force it, and that comes gradually.

“Ok, guys, enough!” he says in the most authoritarian voice he can master but still respectful enough to not be a command. “Alec, get Riley and return to base. Bryan will help me gather the gear”

Alec heads towards Riley but not before giving Bryan a smirk. Jonny would have to have a talk with him later about the inappropriateness of smugness.

Bryan seems unfazed and sets himself to task. His coolness is frustrating; it makes Jonny’s blood boil. He, shamefully, craves a reaction, a protest, a shouting contest even to relieve some of the tension. “You need to stop”

“I thought I had to help you gather the gear” Bryan replies casually

Jonny is not amused “This is not funny”

“Maybe you just don’t have a sense of humour”

Jonny clenches his fists “What the hell is your problem man?”

“Currently you, not letting me finish my task”

Jonny walks up to him, grabs him by the shoulder and turns him around. Bryan smiles and Jonny knows it’s because he let himself being pulled, there was no other way Jonny would have managed it. He feels like he is being mocked.

“This” Jonny says gesturing around “is not a joke. We’re trying to find ways to do what we have to without getting killed. This is not a one man mission. You don’t get to laugh at a guy who makes a mistake; you do your best to help him. This is a team and we have each other’s backs. This is not a playground, it’s a battlefield. We count on each other to return to safety. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you but lives are at stake and you need to man up or get the hell out of here.”

Bryan laughs right at Jonny’s face “Relax soldier! This is not a battlefield, this is a training arena and last time I checked no one was shooting at us”

“It’s a training field now but soon enough it’ll be guns and bombs and a run against time and we can’t afford this kind of attitude. It might cost our lives”

“Oh spare me the lecture Toews. This is not your stupid game and you don’t wear a C. So back the fuck off before I give you something worth whining about”

“You are a fucking asshole! You’re dangerous and I won’t have you on this team”

Bryan continues to laugh “Good luck with that! Do you think they’ll just let me go? I’m their best weapon”

Jonny falters “Are you touched in the head? You’re not a weapon, you’re a human being; we all are.”

Bryan snorts and Jonny really, really wants to punch him in the face “Oh my, you really are stupid, eh?”

“How does me not wanting any of us to die classifies as stupidity?”

“People die every day, Toews and there’s nothing we can do about it. You can plan and practise and take precautions but in the end nothing matters; they’re just- gone”

“All the more reasons to try harder!” Jonny yells “I don’t care if you want to think of yourself as a weapon, just makes sure you get aimed in the right direction. I won’t have you responsible for anyone’s death.”

Bryan’s shoulders tense and his eyes darken; the way he looms over Jonny makes him all the more frightening. He can clearly sense Bryan’s need to violently shut him up “I’m responsible for no one other than myself, Toews. If you don’t want to die, don’t allow yourself to get killed. It’s not on me to save you!”

Jonny tries really hard to hide his shakes, he hates showing weakness. Luckily for him, Bryan backs off and turns the other way, like that conversation never happened.

 Jonny, belatedly perhaps, realises, he has no business being in a war zone when he’s so easily intimidated by one man who’s, supposedly, on his side.   

Perhaps, it’s time to re-evaluate his life choices.

Ĵƫ


	5. Patrick.Jonathan.Patrick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got bored filling the spaces in between and went ahead with the story. It might lack some details at points but if there are unanswered questions I will not leave them be. I have a list of things that would get clarified in the process. If there's something you think is missing that would have been relevant at this part please inform me.
> 
> I want to thank [Rachel](http://halesmate.tumblr.com/) for pointing me to the right direction as far as the US military is concerned. The matter still puzzles me. I've done extensive research and I'm still as confused as I was before. I probably took some liberties and some things might be inaccurate. Feel free to correct me.
> 
> Zarah's support (and threats) keep me motivated but it's always nice to read comments so feel free to leave some :D thank you to all who already did, you don't know how much it means :)
> 
> this chapter contains 2 graphics that I made that I'm actually very proud of. I hope you enjoy them as well :D

**Patrick**

“You said that this wouldn’t happen” Patrick shouts shoving the paper in his hand in Jackie’s face “You said I was over 25. You said-“

“Patrick watch your tone!” his father chastises

“Really? Seriously? My tone is the fucking problem here and not the fact that you don’t seem to care that I might get killed?” Patrick is furious and has no brain to mouth filter.

“Patrick” his mother shouts horrified. She hasn’t said much since the letter arrived but Patrick knows there’s a battle going inside her; patriotic duty vs mother’s love. Patrick doesn’t know which weighs more at this point.

“You’re being unfair and unreasonable, Patrick” his father’s voice is low but harsh nonetheless “This is a difficult time for this country and you need to play your part.”

“Play my part? What is my part, being a puppet? Which strings do they get to pull and in what tune should I dance? Or should I just roll over and play dead?”

“I don’t understand you anymore, Patrick. This isn’t you. What happened to the boy who was proud for the troops that defended this country and its people?”

“His life got fucked over, that’s what happened to him. What happened to you? What happened to your love and support? How can you not care that I might leave and never come back alive?”

“I do care, of course I do. How can you think I don’t? But we have a duty Patrick and we don’t run away from our responsibilities”

“Oh my God, what’s wrong with you? I don’t want to be responsible for someone else’s blood in my hands. Don’t you get it? This isn’t me!”

“Protecting your family and your country is your responsibility. You might not like the way it needs to be done but the cause you’ll be fighting for is greater. No one wanted this war Pat but it’s near and we must fight it.”

Patrick had had enough “Fuck your cause and your war!” he was stepping out of line but he couldn’t care at all at this point “and fuck you” he turns to Jackie “you said I can’t be drafted, you promised!”

Jackie hadn’t said a word, she had been crying the whole time “It’s conscription Pat. I didn’t know- they didn’t say” she mutters. It’s not fair to her but Patrick can’t care, he’s being selfish; he thinks he deserves to be.

“You promised!” it’s all he repeats because she did. After the draft announcement she had researched it. She had said that they only draft up to 25 year old men. She had shown up to his house beaming, carrying celebratory ice cream, she had promised that Patrick wouldn’t have to fight. _She had promised._

ƥƙ

 

Patrick had been expecting the knock on the door as soon as he left his parents house. He had fled instantly after that conversation because he wasn’t ready to deal with the fact that they barely recognised each other anymore; the people closer to him had become strangers; grey faces in the crowd he knew nothing about and understood little of him in return.

Yet he still knew enough of his sister to know she wouldn’t give up. Her love and guilt would guide her to his doorstep; guilt that wasn’t hers to bear but Patrick had made it so. He hated himself for it. Self loathing was an old acquaintance of his, it was disturbingly comforting to have something familiar back; ten shades of fucked up but comforting nonetheless.

He doesn’t give Jackie a chance to even breathe as he opens the door and envelops her into a tight hug. There’s not even a second of hesitation from her part as she wraps her hands around him.

“I’m so sorry...so sorry” Patrick repeats over and over; he needs to say it as much as possible in fear that she won’t accept it otherwise.

It takes them a few moments to detach themselves from each other and the doorway and settle in the couch.

“I don’t know how this could happen, Pat. There was nothing about it on the news”

“I’m lucky I guess” words dripping sarcasm “Wanna hear something funny? They’re sending me to Chicago”

“Chicago? I didn’t know they had an army base”

“The 20th Special Forces Group has detachments there. Isn’t that hilarious?”

“Patrick stop it! It’s not funny and it doesn’t make sense. They don’t recruit; not like this. There’s a list of qualifications you have to meet to even be considered and it’s always, always voluntary applicants. Something is not right”

“Maybe they’re getting desperate”

“Can you stop with the dry wit? It’s so unbecoming. I’m telling you there’s something wrong with this picture, Pat”

“Like what? Do you think the one in charge is a Blues fan or something? It doesn’t matter any way ‘cause I’m not going”

“Patrick, that’s not an option”

“Sure it is, what are they going to do? Drag me there and force me to fight?”

“Court-martial is what’s going to happen to you Patrick, charged with treason is what’s gonna happen. Your life will be over”

“Reality check, little sis, my life is already over!”

Jackie smacked him across the head; hard. “Don’t ever say that again, you hear me? We’ll figure it out”

“Nothing to figure out, we already have a plan remember? You, me, Switzerland hockey and chocolate, right?”

Jackie shakes her head “We both know that that wasn’t ever a real option. Now give me that stupid paper and let me see what we can do”

Patrick hands her his death sentence; that’s what that is to him-he’s just as dead as the tree that helped create that sheet.

Jackie studies it for a while and Patrick tries to read her expression all the way through. He’s searching for the tiniest hint of hope but he doesn’t find any.

“Get me your laptop, Pat. I need contact information. There must be something we could do. We won’t get you out of it but we can have you transferred in another unit”

Patrick does what she asks without saying a word. He has no faith that this will work but he decides to humour her for now. It doesn’t serve any purpose for both of them to be miserable. Jackie needs the hope; Patrick had given up long ago.

He settles beside her and fires up the laptop “Ok, shoot. What am I looking for?”

“There must be a website for the 20th SFG. Search for-“ she consults the letter “Master Sergeant Wilson”

Patrick stands still for a heartbeat before he feels the low chuckle leave his mouth, becoming an erratic horrified laughter in mere seconds “I am _so_ fucked!”

ƥƙ

 

**Jonathan**

 

Jonny didn’t quite realize how he ended up here. One moment he was reconsidering his decision to join the army willingly and the next the war bells tolled. The process got speed up; Jonny got the C rank and a team of his own. Jonny was terrified. He was used to leading men on the ice not on possible mine fields and death zones.

He wasn’t good enough yet to compartmentalize; he’d dive out of the plane and his mind would wander to the past instead of focusing on the right time to pull the strings. It was a miracle that he hadn’t injured himself yet. He couldn’t afford the distractions. His unit was already fucked up; between Bryan’s recklessness and inability to coexist with Alec and the fact that Brent would risk himself to protect Bryan they were an outright mess. Jonathan didn’t do much to help the situation either. It seemed like Riley was the only one well adjusted of them all.

It dawned on him one night, watching Brent write on his journal in the corner that that might be the solution. He left too many things unsaid and way more not dealt with; any given moment could be his last and Jonny didn’t want to leave unfinished business.

So, he bought himself a notebook. The first thing he wrote was a will. Morbid and given the circumstances a bit of a jinx but it was the sensible thing to do.

He had gathered Brent and Alec one evening and had asked “Do you think I’m sane?”

Both boys had blinked, utter confusion evident in their faces “What do you mean?” Alec had asked

“If someone asked you if I was mentally capable of making my own decisions would you say yes?”

“Of course, Jon. You’re one of the most well-adjusted men I’ve ever met”

Jonny had given Alec a tight lipped smile “I worry about the kind of company you keep, if that’s true but fair enough. I need to ask a favour”

“Yes, sure” Alec had said

“Anything” Brent had chimed in

“I want you to sign a paper. It’s-it’s a last will and testament. I need two witnesses who can verify I’m of sound mind”

Jonny had seen the two boys fidget, clearly uncomfortable at the request “I wouldn’t ask if I could find another way, I just-“

“Hey, no, it’s fine” Alec had said “I understand. It actually makes sense. I would make one as well if I had anything to leave behind.” Alec was a foster kid who joined the military as soon as he turned 18 and couldn’t stay in the system. He didn’t have any possessions and no family whatsoever. For one dreadful moment Jonny had thought it was for the best. If he was gone he wouldn’t be responsible for anyone’s heartbreak. He had felt disgusted with himself the moment he had finished that thought.

“I have one already” Brent had said in a hush tone “when my brother- when Hunter died I got one” Jonny was shocked. He never knew up until that point that Brent even had a brother. The whole thing irked him; Brent was only a teen, he shouldn’t be thinking of death. In retrospect, that thought seemed foolish when that whole conversation was being held in a battle field while waiting to get picked up. “Bryan has one, too” he had added and that was even more puzzling. Jonny hadn’t figured out what their deal was yet.

The boys had signed the paper and Jonathan proceeded to task number two. He wrote his standard goodbye letters. The one to his brother was a mixture of apologies and accusations that ended with regrets and forgiveness. The one to his parents was the harder to write, especially when it came to his mother. There was a lot of scribbling and tearing, long apologies and eternal gratefulness. It wouldn’t comfort her much but it helped Jonny with some closure. Dan got one as well; a lot of reminiscing went onto his, feelings of brotherhood and solidarity. He wrote dozens of them, to friends and family alike.

One letter was left to being written. To Patrick. Jonny would look at the blank sheet for hours trying to figure out how to start and what to say. He started a couple of times but ended up throwing it away not even half way through. He’d pull the picture he carried in his pocket and he’d look at it for hours trying to figure a way to put feeling into words. He couldn’t do it. He didn’t know how to say goodbye; not to him.

He chose a different approach in the end. Every time he’d think of him he’d write in the journal. Stupid little stuff, memories mostly attached with all the things he felt at that exact moment that he never voiced out loud. Then he’d sit looking at the night sky and he’d caught himself scribbling nauseating and uncharacteristically corny things. He thought to throw it away a couple of times but opted not to in the end. He could picture the way Patrick’s face would light up in the prospect of eternally making fun of Jonny and that made it worthwhile.

He never-not once considered the possibility of his words hurting Patrick when Jonny would have been long gone. It never crossed his mind, because he couldn’t imagine hurting Patrick unintentionally or not.

The fact that Jonny thought himself incapable of causing Patrick pain didn’t invalidate the harm he’d could potentially inflict.

Jonny had never been perceptive to the amount of effect he had on him.

Ĵƫ

 

**Captain Toews**

  

 

Alec is helping Jonny gear up. They always take turns assisting each other. It isn’t just necessity; in a weird way it is a sign of solidarity, like they have each other’s backs. It doesn’t matter that Alec and Bryan are at each other’s throats all the time, it doesn’t matter that Jonny’s head isn’t always in the game, it doesn’t matter that Brent is often torn between protecting Bryan and siding with what is right, it doesn’t matter that Riley thinks they are all unbalanced individuals. The moment they step into their gear they are a unit.

Jonny pulls the strings to make sure they hold and thanks Alec for his help. “No problem, Cap” Jonny wants to laugh. He doesn’t deserve to be called a captain; he doesn’t deserve the rank itself but that’s the deal he stroked and he has to accept that fact.

“Remember, we keep our heads low, we’re so very careful, we drop the supplies off and we make a clear line for the border. Bryan and I will set the cluster bombs, Alec and Brent will stand guard and Riley will keep watch at the border perimeter” Jonny revisits the plan.

He can see Brent ready to argue so he raises his palm to stop him “Don’t even start Johnson! If I even suspect you’re not doing your job properly I’ll have you thrown off the unit”. It is a harsh threat, though the only one that Brent feared enough to obey. Their lives are at stake and he can’t worry about Brent while holding exploding devices in his hands.

Brent nods but Jonny can feel his disagreement clear as day. “Riley, your eyes never leave the spots. If we forget even an inch, we’re dead. We can’t have markers and you’re the best at calculating.”

“Sure thing, Cap” Riley says and Jonny scrunches his nose. He doesn’t understand why they keep calling him Cap. It’s like they share an inside joke Jonny knows nothing about.

He steps out and towards the small aircraft “Here goes nothing” is all he mutters.

 

ƾ

 

Delivering supplies is always the easy part; going from that to burying cluster bombs and mines is a bit trickier. Jonny’s ears still ring by the explosion. He can smell the smoke even if he can’t see it in the distance. It’s not the limited time they might have to flee the scene, it’s not even the danger of doing it unnoticed; it’s the fact that when Jonny hears the boom he knows that someone’s blood is on his hands, that somewhere out there a family is going to grieve and that’s his fault whether he chose it or was forced into it doesn’t matter; the simple fact it that Jonny facilitated the outcome.

 Jonny saw the Growlers heading their way, he noticed three of the vehicles but there could have been more; a dozen people at least by his count and his job for the night was not done yet. They walk a tride pace; use their tip-toes when they have to while trying to maintain their balance. Brent and Alec struggle between their gear in their backs and the weapons in their hands. Bryan walks straight ahead in the warm night like he’s strolling around town just to kill some time. Jonny and Riley are extra careful and that might cost them time but it can potentially save their lives; it might not.

Jonny had crossed the specific border enough times to be familiar with it. It’s half a day drive from Chicago not counting traffic. The customs booth serves as a barrier, soldiers hide behind it; they have silos and a temporary camp, it’s fenced with barbed wire. Everything screams ‘keep away’ instead of the ‘welcome’ it used to represent. The other side is almost the same.

 Jonny doesn’t understand how there can be troops at such a close proximity from either side without resulting in battle.  It baffles him that firearms are not shot but bombs are being plant. War makes no sense to him. He’s not here to solve riddles though; he’s there to make sure that whoever or whatever crosses that border will get blown up. It’s that simple.

Riley calculates the distance between the cluster bombs. It’s pitch black which is great for cover but doesn’t do much for non verbal communication. Brent and Alec keep guard; they try to decipher noises in the quiet and track movements in the dark. This whole operation is a joke and not even a funny one. Jonny and Bryan dig shallow holes where Ryan had pointed. They don’t need that much depth and even if it was necessary they wouldn’t have enough time anyway.

They’re covered in dirt but can’t do anything to dust it off. Their movements are short and quick, the only way to pass undetected from the other side. They plant the smaller ones individually and leave the bigger ones for last so they can do it together. They’ve done the same thing a dozen times by now and though fear was present at each and every one of them this night Jonny has a bad feeling deep in his gut. There’s such a powerful silence hanging around them it seems like it tries to suffocate them.

They’re not even half way done when Alec and Brent both jerk around sharply, guns armed and pointing. Riley waves his arms frantically trying to catch their attention. Jonny never thought he could actually notice shadows in the night, the dark was their domain that could hide and protect them but from the corner of his eyes he can see someone ready to step on their first buried mine on the far left.

He’s aware that it’s a small one because he was the one that put it there and that they’re far enough to be hit by the shrapnel when it goes off. He’s also positive that they can’t escape at this point without going unnoticed. If they’re not outnumbered they’re certainly outgunned since only two of them hold heavy artillery and Riley carries a handgun. Jonny and Bryan have a grenade each tucked away but it’d be suicide to use them.

When the blast echoes Jonny’s feet are rooted to the ground. He forgets every safety protocol he’d been taught. When Brent, Alec and Riley take cover and start shooting he remains still. When shouting and firing almost deafen him Jonny can’t even raise his palms to cover his ears. His eyes are wide open when the first bodies get blown to pieces; they’re wide away when he sees a couple more get hit by shrapnel.  When a familiar face appears between flashes he thinks he’s hallucinating. When Bryan launches at him and tackles him to the ground his eyes remain widened and glued to the form that clutches his arm, doubles over and falls.

The only thing that miraculously works is Jonny’s vocal cords when he screams his name “Patrick”

Ĵƫ

 

 

**Private Kane**

 

 

Of all the bases in all the towns in all of America Patrick wasn’t randomly selected to walk into this one. Master Sergeant Wilson made sure he’d be there, under his command no less and then proceeded making Patrick’s life a living hell.

That’s how Patrick finds himself, with only barely a week’s worth of training, on his way to his first mission. Patrick has no business being there. He barely knows how to fire his arm let alone stand guard while the combat engineers do the demining. He silently prays that this is not his last day. He needs a little more time; a phone call home to let them know he still loves them, a last glance to Jonny’s picture he foolishly forgot back home, just one more scoop of ice cream and a stroll down Lincoln Park; a chance to leave his last breath next to someone familiar and not close his eyes with the image of a complete stranger flashing before them.

He doesn’t know exactly where he’s going, they don’t tell him much. He has strict, basic orders; stay on guard, observe and shoot. He replays them in his head over and over again all the way to their destination, not participating in any conversation that’s being held around him; he couldn’t even if he wanted to. He doesn’t really know anyone and they’re not making an effort to know someone that has already made the Master Sergeant’s black list. He figures it’s better that way. When you don’t form attachments you can’t get hurt in the absence of their presence.

It’s only when they get called to be on guard as they approach that Patrick finally realises where exactly they had sent him. He would laugh at the irony if it was exactly that and not a deliberate attempt from MS Wilson’s part to break Patrick a little bit more. He recognises the bridge; he can even see the map clear in his head Winkler, Steinbach on the right...Winnipeg; so close yet too far. It’s both a comfort and a curse. He wishes he could dig up his passport and cross that border like Jonny wanted him to all these years. He regrets never taking him up on the offer. He won’t get to see Winnipeg but at least he made it close enough. Jonny would have liked it he thinks. If he gets a chance to ever see him again he might tease him for Jonny never setting foot in Buffalo. If he doesn’t pull through at least he made it as far as the circumstances allowed. Maybe MS Wilson did him a favour in the end.

ƥƙ

 

Patrick’s whole life feels like one big bundle of lost moments, missed signs and confusion. His eyes were open but untrained to the darkness. He searched for movement but everything felt the same; he couldn’t distinguish noises either. Was the ruffle coming from across the border or right next to him as the soldiers were managing the equipment? He really couldn’t tell. Patrick knew nothing. Patrick saw nothing. He didn’t see the two soldiers whole, chunks and slabs flying around covered in red. He didn’t see how the other one fell on the ground.

Patrick heard.

He heard the boom loud and clear. He heard the sharp cry and the muffled curse.

Patrick felt.

He felt the pain pierce his wrist then his arm. It might have been what felt like being stabbed, but Pat never knew the feeling. He felt the metal being nailed in his thigh and he felt the air in his abdomen as it was ripped open. He felt the dry earth as he doubled over and fell.

He didn’t see the blood that covered him but he felt the liquid staining his clothes. Then every one of his senses were overpowered by ache. The pangs and stings didn’t live enough room for reminiscing and if he had enough strength he’d curse and pray for that movie-like flash of his life before his eyes he so often heard about. He wanted to go out with one happy memory.

When Jonny’s familiar voice echoed in his ears Patrick smiled. Jonny would have been a smug fucker if he knew that the last thing Patrick heard before he died was his voice. Patrick would have given him that if he could.

A sharp pain stabbed through his spine as someone tried to move his head. He doesn’t think he screamed but his throat feels like sandpaper had scratched him. He doesn’t care because Jonny is saying his name like a prayer, Patrick can hear it. He always thought Heaven would be fun with lots of beautiful noises not Jonny’s monotone voice but ,not that he’d ever admit it to anyone, listening to Jonny’s voice for an eternity is actually a pretty sweet deal.

Jonny’s voice sounds pained and desperate and Patrick frowns. At least he thinks he does, he can’t be sure. He feels he has lost control of all of his muscles.

“Pat, please, please, open your eyes.”

Oh, that’s a nice thought. He could open his eyes and he could see Jonny for one last time.

He feels his upper body being lifted and settled into something soft and hard all at once.

“Pat, please” the pleading doesn’t stop, it comes out chocked and desolated. Patrick tries. Patrick always tries when Jonny demands a little bit more, push a little harder, one more round, two more sets, a couple more laps. Jonny encourages and Patrick follows.

He opens his eyes and comes face to face with Jonny. Patrick attempts a weak smile. God loves him apparently, sending him a vision at his last hour.

“Thank God!” Jonny exclaims like he just echoed Patrick’s thoughts. “Can you hear me? Pat? Can you hear me, babe? Talk to me, Pat”

Patrick tries to say something but ends up coughing and everything hurts again. This spectre is evil. It hurts him in more ways than one. “Jonny?” he croaks

“Yeah, buddy, yeah it’s me” the spectre says “hold on, ok? We’re gonna get you out of here. Hang on for me ok?”

“Jonny” Patrick repeats blinking trying to clear his eyes. Jonny’s eyes are filled with tears. Did he not want to share Patrick’s heaven?

“It’s me. I got you, babe ok? I got you, it’s gonna be alright”

“Hurts”

“I know, babe. Just hang on a little longer. Can you do that for me?”

Patrick tries to nod but everything hurts “Yeah”

“Good. You’re doing so good Patrick, so so good. I can’t believe I found you”

Patrick is confused. He didn’t need finding; he wasn’t lost “Where?” he asks

Jonny doesn’t answer at first. He looks around and down on his lap as he holds Patrick “In between” he says.

“Between...where...” it hurts to speak, everything hurts actually but Patrick needs to know. He always thought he’d end up in Heaven, his mama told him so. What is he doing in between?

“In the border, Pat. We’re...in between countries, or on both at once, I don’t know.”

“How?” he asks

“I got lucky” Jonny says and Patrick doesn’t understand how it’s possible to be lucky stuck in the in between.

“Good?”

“Yeah, Pat. It’s a very good thing. I found you, didn’t I?”

“Jonny? I-“he coughs “I love you” he manages to say because even if it’s a spectre Jonny needs to know.

“I love you too Pat” Jonny replies hoarsely petting his hair lightly and Patrick can’t understand why his voice is strained

“No-no... Jonny. I l _ove_ you” he mimics Jonny’s tone from back in Chicago.

He hears a teary smile in Jonny’s voice “I l _ove_ you too Pat”

“Good” he says “Now- now that I’ll.. you get to feel...” Patrick coughs again and he hurts and he doesn’t have enough air but he needs to say it.

“Shhh, take it easy, babe. Don’t strain yourself ok? You’ll tell me later, eh?”

Patrick manages to slightly shake his head. He tries to take a deep breath and winces at the stab of pain that runs through him “You... get to... know...Jonny.”

“I know, Pat. I know” Jonny replies but Jonny doesn’t know.

“You...stay behind...and know... I _love_ you...” he pauses and breaths “alone...and you know...and I’m not...I’m not there...and you know” he feels the tears wetting his cheeks and the little strength he has left he holds onto that “you know...and you’re alone...and it hurts...I’m not there...”

He wants to tell him that he’ll feel the pain, the same one Patrick carries with him since the day Jonny left. He’ll carry the knowledge of Patrick’s love even after he’s gone and that’s gonna break him like it did Patrick. He needs Jonny to know, to feel everything; the lost chances and the broken dreams and the moments they could have shared. All the anger and the bitterness and the void inside.

He feels Jonny’s sobs and he’s sadistically glad. That’s how Patrick’s body shook as well, only he had been alone with no one to hold him. “Good...cry...I did too... I hate you... I l _ove_ you” he manages to whisper before he lets the darkness claim him.

ƥƙ


	6. Jonathan.Patrick.Jonathan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay. I have no excuse other than being incredibly lazy. I will try my best not to let it happen again.

**Other side of the same coin**

Jonathan thinks he is hallucinating at first but what kind of sick mind would put Patrick in the middle of a war zone being blown up by one of Jonny’s bombs? He doesn’t think his subconscious could be that damaged. It means one thing; somehow Patrick is really there. He doesn’t have time to think about how or why, he barely even makes note on where the remaining mines were. He throws caution to the wind and rushes towards Patrick, silently begging the man upstairs to not have made him a murderer.

He side steps through what once was US soldiers and tries to block the smell of burning flesh and blood from his nose. He takes a glimpse of a body on his left. Any other time he would have paused to help but nothing but Patrick matters now. It still isn’t easy to distinguish more than shapes in the dark but he would have known Pat’s form anywhere. He’d be ashamed to admit but he kicks something on his way there and he can’t be sure that it isn’t a part of someone. He would have to deal with that later.

He reaches Patrick and lets himself sink to the ground. He gently cradles Patrick’s head and places it in his lap. He is breathing and that gives Jonny hope but he seems to be semi-unconscious; his clothes, his hair, his shoes, even his face is covered with dirt and blood “Pat, please, please, open your eyes.”

“Come on, Pat” he says “Pat, please” he begs. He gently touches his cheek, it is still warm and that is a good sign.

Patrick’s eyes flutter and when he opens them Jonny is met with familiar blue “Thank God!” he exclaims as he watches Pat trying to do something that only makes him cringe in pain “Can you hear me? Pat? Can you hear me, babe? Talk to me, Pat”

Patrick makes an effort to talk and end up coughing hard. Jonny feels the strain in Pat’s body against his leg. He wants to tell him to hush but he desperately needs to hear his voice.

“Jonny? Patrick croaks and Jonny feels the relief rush through him.

“Yeah, buddy, yeah it’s me. Hold on, ok? We’re gonna get you out of here. Hang on for me ok?” he needs this just as bad as Patrick. He needs to hear someone say it’s going to be alright even if it is his own voice.

“Jonny” Patrick repeats and the sound of his voice makes Jonny’s eyes well with unshed tears.

“It’s me.” Jonny reassures “I got you, babe ok? I got you, it’s gonna be alright”

“Hurts” Patrick whispers and Jonny hates it. He hates how helpless he feels, how anything he might say or do will make no difference.

“I know, babe. Just hang on a little longer. Can you do that for me?” he asks. He wants to say please, he wants to beg again. _Hold on a little bit longer, do it for me, because I’m a selfish dick and I can’t bear to lose you_ he wants to say _. Think of me because losing you will kill me_ he wants to plead but he can’t. He can’t sound desperate; he doesn’t want to alarm Patrick in the slightest.

 “Yeah”

Jonny sighs with relief “Good. You’re doing so good Patrick, so so good” he praises “I can’t believe I found you” _I can’t believe I almost killed you_ he wants to add but he doesn’t want Patrick to hate him even if he hates himself a little more with every passing moment.

Where?” Patrick asks and Jonny doesn’t answer at first. He guesses Patrick asks where they are. He looks around and down on his lap as he holds Patrick “In between” he says.

“Between...where...”

“In the border, Pat. We’re...in between countries, or on both at once, I don’t know.” It’s unreal now that he actually voiced it. They met half way and would have been poetic if Pat wasn’t lying in his lap bleeding and if Jonny hadn’t put him there.

“How?” Patrick asks

Jonny doesn’t know if he means how they could be at two places at once or how Jonny found him but he goes with exactly how he feels at this moment “I got lucky” he says.

 “Good?” Patrick asks and Jonny wants to let himself go and break down and cry.

“Yeah, Pat. It’s a very good thing. I found you, didn’t I?”

“Jonny? I-“Patrick coughs “I love you”

“I love you too Pat” Jonny replies hoarsely. His voice is strained; it’s difficult to hear the words. They hurt when Jonny heard them before because they were never said in the way Jonny craved them to be but now...now Jonny doesn’t deserve Patrick’s love in whatever form that came.

“No-no... Jonny. I _love_ you” Patrick stresses and Jonny can’t help but smile because there it is, the answer to the burning question that had plagued Jonny since Patrick kissed him all those weeks ago. He can’t contain the tears any longer, a few fall freely and it’s unreal how he can actually feel a burst of happiness in their current state.

 “I _love_ you too Pat” because he does, he always had and probably always will and now he’s not afraid to admit it out loud.

“Good” Patrick says “Now- now that I’ll.. you get to feel...” he coughs again and Jonny feels the spasms

“Shhh, take it easy, babe. Don’t strain yourself ok? You’ll tell me later, eh?” he needs Patrick to reserve his strength until help comes. He also doesn’t need another good bye because if Patrick tries that he doesn’t think he’d be able to handle it this time.

Patrick manages to slightly shake his head “You... get to... know...Jonny.”

“I know, Pat. I know” Jonny replies because now he does. He knows the most important thing; that Patrick is in love with him; that he’s here in Jonny’s arms and he loves him. That’s more than some get in their whole lifetime.

“You...stay behind...and know... I love you...” Patrick says and Jonny doesn’t want to hear it. Jonny is not staying behind. Jonny is going to stay right here with him; Jonny is never leaving him again and he won’t allow Patrick to abandon him either

“alone...and you know...and I’m not...I’m not there...and you know” Jonny feels more than sees that Patrick is crying and he hates himself a little more, because he did that, he hurt Patrick “you know...and you’re alone...and it hurts...I’m not there...”

Jonny wants to turn his head and empty the contents of his stomach in the dirt. He doesn’t have to close his eyes to picture it. Patrick left alone in Chicago with the knowledge that Jonny is in love with him and a list of questions that couldn’t be answered because the one that held the key was nowhere near.

Jonny realizes that this is the second time he had dropped a bomb and had hurt Patrick. This time the wounds are external and bleeding, the first one were internal and scarring.

Making a huge effort to breathe has him realizing he is sobbing. Patrick must be feeling the vibrations to his back because Jonny is shaking “Good...cry...I did too... I hate you... I love you” he whispers and Jonny feels him give up.

“Hate me all you want”, Jonny says as he cradles Patrick, “I don’t care, I deserve it, but please don’t leave me” he pleads. “be angry and make me grovel but please stay with me” Jonny asks but Patrick can’t hear him.

Ĵƫ

 

**Jonathan**

Jonny doesn’t know exactly how much time has passed, it seemed an eternity but somehow he knows it lasted only a few minutes. He can hear people approaching from behind and instinctively bows down a little closer to Patrick in an attempt to shield him. He hasn’t forgotten where they are or that Patrick is considered an enemy and he doesn’t know how blood thirsty they could be.

He feels a hand on his shoulder and he’s about to reach around and grab it; he can do it, he has a black belt and when he’s not on skates he can actually fight but Alec’s voice stops him “Hey, Cap you gotta let go” and Jonny instinctively crouches a bit further down and holds tighter.

“Hey, no, it’s ok” Alec reassures “we brought help, they need to take him”

Jonny shakes his head vigorously and rocks back and forth like lulling Patrick to sleep “Jon, you can’t leave him in the dirt bleeding. They need to take him now, every minute counts. We need to hurry before _they_ come.”

That rattles Jonny, the possibility that they can come and claim Patrick. He’s not theirs, they don’t own him. Patrick is his; Jonny’s his country, his home. He belongs with him, Patrick _loves_ him.

He lets go gently, still holding Pat’s head tentatively as he places him gently in the ground. He doesn’t step much further away. He looms over him while two men come and put him in a stretcher. Jonny’s eyes never leave Patrick’s form. He couldn’t look away even if he tried. He hears the men whisper to each other; they have recognised who Patrick was. Jonny doesn’t know if that will work to their advantage.

He forces his feet to move to follow the stretcher but Alec holds him back. “We need to report back. We’re gonna get in trouble”

“I don’t care” Jonny replies with as much force as he can master

“I know” Alec says with such conviction that Jonny knows he had seen and heard everything “but you’re not going to be able to help him if you’re being detained for disobeying orders”

Jonny wants to keep fighting him just on principle alone, but he’s too strung out. “Let’s get this over with” he grumbles. He follows Alec and it takes him reaching their destined point to realize that the rest of his team is missing.

“Where are the others?”

Alec shift uncomfortably and Jonny gets a sick feeling in his stomach “Alec? What’s going on?”

“I- I don’t really know. We were coming after you to keep watch and you...you saw your...friend and...we didn’t want to pry but we...we were close and you were saying things... and all of a sudden...just... Bryan just lost it. He went white and froze, he started sobbing and screaming...” Alec pauses and leans closer to Jonny almost whispering “he was yelling Hunter”

“Hunter?” Jonny was really confused but he knew he had heard that name before “like...like Brent’s...”

“...Brent’s brother?” Alec keeps whispering “that’s what I thought as well.”

“What the hell is going on?”

“I don’t know. He just took off and Brent went after him”

“Shit”

“Yeah”

“And Riley?”

“We came here to ask for help and I lead them back to you. He might be back at base”

Jonny rubs his forehead; this is giving him a terrible headache “Shit! I- I can’t deal with this now. I- We need to go back and I need to find Patrick”

“Cap-“

“No, ok? No! I’m not your captain now. I don’t care. I need to go see Patrick, make sure he’s alright. I can’t- I didn’t ask for this...”

Alec puts a hand on Jonny’s shoulder “Hey, it’s ok. We’ll go back to base and I’ll handle it. We’re gonna get you to your...to Patrick as soon as possible. I promise”

Jonny surprises himself when he turns and envelops Alec in a tight hug. He has no words to express his gratitude, for Alec’s understanding, for his discretion, for his support. For a kid with no family Alec sure as hell knows how to be an amazing brother. The way Alec squeezes back tells Jonny he understands even though no words are exchanged between them.

Jonny might make it through after all.

Ĵƫ

 

**Patrick**

Patrick knows he’s in the hospital without having to open his eyes. The place smells like iodine and disinfectant with a heavy hint of something like the Clorox his cleaning lady used back in Chicago. If the smell hadn’t clued him in the images that flood his mind would have soon enough.

He had regained consciousness enough to be told that he needs surgery but the pain wouldn’t let him stay awake that long. He was so tired as well. He figures that since he now seems to be laid in a bed that everything went ok. He’s still alive and that’s the upside, right?

He tries to shift and his hand bumps into something warm and solid. “Pat?” the voice whispers and it’s so low it barely even registers. He tries to open his eyes but he’s not strong enough. “Pat can you hear me?” Jonny-of course it’s Jonny- whispers again closer to his ear this time.

He makes an effort to speak, swallows hard and he barely recognises his raspy voice when he manages to croak Jonny’s name.

He feels Jonny’s caress in his cheek, just a phantom touch “Don’t try to speak, just listen. You’re in Winnipeg, you got injured in the field and you had surgery. Fortunately no major organs were harmed but you lost a lot of blood. You need to stay still, no sudden movements because your internal stitches are seven layers deep. Do you understand what I’m saying Pat?”

Patrick moves his hand slightly just to touch Jonny’s again as an answer. He would have nodded but his head feels heavy and even with his eyes shut he feels a bit dizzy. “Good. Ok. You...You hurt your leg. It’s gonna hurt for a while and gonna leave some scars but you’re going to be fine. You won’t be able to wander around for a few days. Your wrist is a bit worse”

Pat frowns. He just moved his hand towards Jonny, there’s nothing wrong with his wrist. It takes him a couple seconds to realise that his brain always seems to concentrate on his left wrist that he forgets he has another one. He tries to move his right hand but it’s too heavy.

“Don’t” comes the warning from Jonny and Patrick doesn’t understand why he keeps whispering. “It’s in a cast. The shrapnel damaged some nerves but the surgery was successful you don’t need to worry. You’re going to be fine, you hear me?”

Patrick knows it’s rhetoric but he still touches Jonny’s hands. He needs the comfort more than Jonny needs the answer. “Now listen to me carefully because this is important. I was never here. You haven’t seen me, haven’t talked to me. They’re conducting an investigation on how you and I both ended at the same place. They’ll come to question you when you’re feeling better. Answer truthfully, you have nothing to hide. Just- don’t mention that I was here.”

There’s a faint knock coming from somewhere that startles Patrick. He doesn’t get a chance to process it because he feels Jonny’s warm hand on his “My time is up. I don’t know how soon I can be back. I had to sneak in and the hospital is well guarded.”

Patrick wants to flip his palm, to hold Jonny’s hand, lace their fingers together and have him squeeze back. He wants to say thank you and don’t leave me. There’s a small part of him that still resents him. The lonely days and the tears, the pain he felt were all real and not forgotten. He shoves it deep down because it doesn’t matter this instance. Patrick’s in trouble and Jonny’s his anchor. He deserves to be selfish just this once.

Jonny places a soft kiss on his forehead and runs his thumb over Patrick’s fingers “I’ll be back” he murmurs and Patrick wants to laugh. It’s funny when Jonny accidentally makes pop culture references. All he manages is to raise his thumb and fleetingly brush it against Jonny’s hand as he feels him move away.

ƥƙ

 

They didn’t give Patrick that long to regain his strength before they came to visit. He’d been up less than twenty four hours, managing to eat some soup and drink some water. He was still pretty weak but he did manage to stay awake for more than two hours at a time.

The questioning was relentless, same things asked again and again ‘Did you have any contact?’ ‘How long have you been planning this?’ ‘How did you get here?’ ‘Has he contacted you?’

Patrick grew tired of giving the same answers. As much as he insisted he could see that they didn’t believe him. Truth apparently has no merit in war time.

“Mr. Kane I would advise you to co-operate. Giving us the information willingly will count in your favour”

“I am co-operating!” Patrick protests “I’ve already told you everything! I haven’t had any contact with Jonny since he was taken from Chicago. I didn’t know where they were sending me. The bomb went off and I got injured. I don’t remember much. It’s all fuzzy. They said Jonny found me. Someone brought me in and I had surgery. I was out of it. Ask the doctors. I don’t know what you want from me”

“Do you know Corporal Campbell?”

“No”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes”

“You’ve never met him?”

“No”

“How can you be sure?”

“They showed me his photo”

“So, you have no idea why he vanished when you got injured”

“No”

“I’m guessing you have no idea who Private Tremblay is either, right?”

“None whatsoever”

“No idea why he would get you help either, then?”

“None”

“So let me recap. You had no contact with Captain Toews, you didn’t know you were sent to Winnipeg to a post he was serving and you don’t know the people on his unit, one of whom managed to get the paramedics to save your life. Nor do you have any ideas of why the other one would vanish. Am I correct?”

“Yes”

“If I ask about Private Johnson your answer would still be negative I suppose”

“I don’t socialize with Canadians outside of hockey. I don’t know these people” Patrick is getting tired and his agitation makes the nurse step closer and glare at the officer. 

The man backs off “I’m going to let you rest for now Mr. Kane. I will be back though. I suggest you think it over.”

“I don’t know what you’re fishing for but whatever it is you won’t find it here”

“Mr. Kane you are a war prisoner. I suggest you rethink your attitude if you want a chance to return home soon. The last thing you need is being accused of espionage. ”

Patrick wants to tell him to fuck off but the words prisoner and espionage cut the air off his lungs. He doesn’t know what he was expecting but surely it was not that. Patrick is not a spy; he isn’t even a proper soldier, not really.

Patrick is just the victim of a cruel universe joke.

ƥƙ

 

 

**Jonathan**

 

Jonny is packing up his things when Riley comes to find him. He doesn’t have much and it’s not like he was neat to begin with so he just shoves his few belonging to his duffel bag so he can get the hell away from that place as soon as possible.

“What’s going on, Cap?” Riley asks in a low voice trying not to alarm the guards too much.

Jonny continues his task without looking at him. The last thing he wants is to cause trouble for Riley as well “There’s an investigation pending and until it’s resolved I’m being relieved of my duties”

“Are they... are you being arrested?”

Jonny shakes his head “They’re here to escort me off base.”

“What are you going to do Cap?”

“I’m going home, Lieutenant. I’m under instructions to stay close.”

“Is there anything- can I do something?”

Jonny turns and smiles lightly “Thank you, but no. I’m forbidden to have any contact with the members of this team until the investigation is through. I’m surprised they even let you come near me.”

Riley snorts “That’s bull”

Jonny shrugs once more “It is what it is” He picks up his duffle bag and turns to his guards “I’m ready if you are”

They motion for him to move. Jonny takes a few steps and turns his head back to Riley “Take care, Lieutenant.

Riley salutes and Jonny heads towards the yard. He’s half way to the gate when Brent suddenly appears to his right. “Captain” he says instead of a greeting

Jonny smiles and it’s fake as all of his smiles are of late but his men need it. They need to know they’re not at fault. If anything he’s so grateful to have been placed in a unit with such nice men. That’s how Jonny sees them, as young men not soldiers. He doesn’t care what the insignias in their arms say or if they have any. He couldn’t care less about their skills, what matters to him is their hearts and those are big and in the right place.

“Private Johnson”

The guard shoots a quick look around and addresses Brent. It’s the first time Jonny has heard his voice since he came to take him “You have a minute. Make it quick”

Jonny’s startled but Brent gets right to the point “Bryan’s been medically discharged. They gave him a psych eval  and found him unfit for duty.”

“I thought he was MIA” Jonny says confused

“He was never missing, Cap. We got here when you and Alec were being questioned. They hauled him up to a room and called the General.”

“Are you in trouble?”

“I’m gonna be fine. I just- I need a favour. Please go find him. He can’t be alone and he won’t go to my parents”

Jonny has the question on the tip of his tongue. He’s dying to ask and Brent seems to get it “We don’t have time. We’ll explain everything, I promise. Just- go find him” he pleads and discreetly slips something in Jonny’s pocket.

“I-I’m not allowed...” Jonny starts to say but the devastating look on Brent’s face stops him.

“Time’s up” the guard mutters and Jonny has enough time to see the gratitude in Brent’s eyes as he hurriedly shoots a promise.

The minute Jonny steps out of the gate he can breathe again. Even with the guards still looming over his shoulder he feels free.

Ĵƫ

It’s 3 am and the hospital seems to be asleep just like most of its patients. The corridors are empty and quiet but Jonny is still so very careful. Cara snuck him in through the nurse’s door and made sure that the guard was occupied before she gave him the signal.

He enters Patrick’s room and finds him asleep. He looks so peaceful that Jonny’s reluctant to wake him up. He wishes he could just sit by his side guarding his sleep but he’s on a time limit. He brushes his finger lightly on Patrick’s cheek. It’s not as soft as he remembered. It’s not like Patrick can grow a decent beard but his unshaved state is evident to the touch.

“Pat” he whispers right in his ear

Patrick doesn’t stir so Jonny presses a little harder and calls again. It takes two more calls and a pet to his hair for Pat to open his eyes. Jonny catches the surprise and the alarm stance of his body even before Pat has a chance to understand what’s going on. He brings his palm to Pat’s mouth and muffles the gasp.

“Shhh...it’s me. Don’t be afraid” he reassures

Patrick opens his eyes and Jonny wants to get lost in the blue. “What are you doing here?” Patrick is clearly panicking “How did you get in? There is a guard outside”

Jonny’s hand never leaves Pat’s face. He can’t seem to be able to stop touching him “Dan’s cousin is a nurse here. She snuck me in. How are you feeling?”

“Better”

“Good. That’s good”

Patrick stands upright and Jonny squeezes himself to fit at the empty space in the narrow bed. The moment his side makes contact with Pat, he hisses in pain.

Jonny jumps up and away from him “I’m sorry” he says

Patrick scoots a bit further and shakes his head “It’s ok. Not your fault that your ass is so huge”

Jonny huffs and Patrick pats the bed “Come here”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Shut up and sit down” Patrick commands and Jonny complies.

“How long can you stay?”

“Not long.”

Patrick nods. Jonny can see his disappointment even if he tries to hide it. “I want to... I have so much I want to say...”

“I don’t want to hear it. Not now” Patrick replies and it’s not harsh or cruel.

“We have to” Jonny insists. He doesn’t want to either. He just wants to sit in the dark with Patrick, hold him and enjoy the contact and the silence but they don’t have that luxury.

“I don’t care. I’m tired and in pain and I’ve been talking all day. No more”

“Patrick”

Patrick raises his palm “No. I don’t want to talk, I don’t want to scheme or plan; I don’t want to think about it.”

“But we need to-”

“I can’t do this now, Jonny. I have no fight in me and I don’t want to argue.”

Jonny sighs but backs off. Patrick is still weak and probably scared. If he wants to pretend just for a little while Jonny will give him that. “Ok but soon, alright? We need to figure this out”

“Soon” Patrick agrees but his tone doesn’t really convince Jonny.

They stare at each other silently for a while and Jonny can’t stop clenching and unclenching his hand. His fingers itch to touch Patrick again. He raises his hand so very slowly to give Patrick the chance to stop him if he wants. He doesn’t know what the boundaries are or if even there are any. Patrick neither flinches nor pulls away but Jonny still has to ask “May I?”

Patrick puffs and blows and grasps Jonny’s palm guiding it to his face. Jonny cups the back of his neck as much as he can and traces his cheekbone with his finger. Patrick closes his eyes at the contact and lets a content sigh. Jonny, feeling bolder, scoots a bit closer and leans in just a few inches away from Patrick’s face.

He wants to close the gap and seal their lips together but he already kissed Pat once without permission and that small touch had caused him a great deal of pain; Jonny’s not about to make the same mistake. “Pat” he breaths more than says and he’s sure that Patrick feels the air he lets out on his face.

Patrick opens his eyes slowly, lazily, like they have all the time in the world. He doesn’t say a thing but his tongue peeks out and he traces his lips with it moistening them and that’s all the invitation Jonny needs.

He closes the gap between them and brushes their lips together. Patrick opens up for him immediately but Jonny doesn’t rush it. He knows he should because the clock is ticking and they’re running out of time but he wants to be able to remember every little detail.

Despite moistening them Patrick’s lips are still chapped. Jonny traces the lower one with his tongue before lightly capturing it between his own. He does the same thing with the upper one. “Jonny” Patrick breaths right in his mouth and Jonny feels the vibrations more than hears the word.

“Please” he drawls

Jonny lets just the tip of his tongue enter Patrick’s mouth upper lip to upper lip still. It’s not a kiss, it’s breath to breath and a light touch, thumb still caressing his cheek. He has no idea why he’s torturing both of them when the only thing he truly wants is to taste Patrick. Patrick doesn’t push either, he just stays still and lets Jonny set the pace.

Jonny’s so used to denying himself the things he craves most and deep down he knows that if he lets himself kiss Patrick the way he wants then there’s no leaving, no going back. He knows he’s going to stay there until the soldiers come and pry him away.

The familiar knock sounds again and they both groan simultaneously. Jonny can’t blame anyone but himself for the missed chance. He touches his forehead to Patricks and breaths him in one last time. Under the hospital smell there’s still a trace of the familiar musk that is Patrick and Jonny revels in it.

He pulls away just as Patrick opens his eyes. He opens his mouth to speak but Patrick beats him to it. “You’ll be back” he says and it’s both a conviction and a mockery. Jonny surges forward once more and leaves a soft kiss on Patrick’s lips.

“Soon” he promises and hopes that it will be enough for now.

Ĵƫ


	7. Patrick.Jonathan

**Chapter 7**

**Patrick**

Patrick lies in his bed, pain dulled by the drugs, wishing he would be doused with so much morphine he couldn’t even know his name. He’s not mildly sedated or hazed, he’s so clear headed that actually bothers him because in this quiet and his boredom he can do nothing but think.

He’s scared, out of his mind terrified. He’s not scarred; it was all too dark and sudden to actually experience the war horrors and he was in too much pain to even be afraid of dying at that moment so no PTSD for Patrick. What daunts him is the explicit titles the officer used _war prisoner, espionage_ and all the things those imply. He’s not sure what that entails exactly and the unknown scares him. One wrong word and he could be in trouble, even in danger. One wrong word and he could be responsible for Jonny’s falling as well. He keeps their fate in his hands, the fate of people he hasn’t even met as well and Patrick can’t shoulder that responsibility.

He’s alone and the loneliness is not just an empty room that hears voices when the doctors visit; he’s truly on his own, nowhere to lean and no one to help him. Jonny is a shadow that crawls in in the dark that stays a moment and disappears even before the day breaks. He feels stuck in the in between, like he never left that ground, those moments before Jonny appeared, with no one around him and no idea whatsoever on what the future holds.

Patrick had felt lonely before, once or twice, a fleeting feeling that never stayed because he was loved and that knowledge, wherever that love may come from, never lets you feel abandoned. This though, this is different, a whole new level of lonesomeness; the kind that leaves you vacant and desperate.

The door opens and for a minute Patrick tenses scared that the officers had come once again but it’s just the nurse and he lets out a sigh of relief. The jittery feeling doesn’t leave him though as the door stays open for the guard to observe.

“Good morning, Mr. Kane” the small, brunette girl says and it sounds friendly enough to Patrick “I’m here to change your bandages”

“Oh, okay” he says and tries to sit up straighter but remembers that he actually needs to be lied down.

The girl comes to his side and gets right to task. She removes the one to his leg first, applies what Patrick guesses is some sort of disinfectant and re-bandages it with soft efficient moves.

“It seems like it’s healing nicely” the nurse comments and Patrick is relieved she spoke so he can ask a question. He’s pretty sure she said her name once but he can’t seem to remember it.

“When can I get out of this bed?”

The girl smiles sadly “I’m afraid that will take a while longer. You can’t put your weight on it or you’ll break your stitches. We’d allow you out of bed in a wheelchair but that would burst the ones in your abdomen.”

Patrick lets out an exasperated sigh and the nurse gives him a knowing look “I know it’s frustrating but if all goes well you can move carefully in a couple of days. I can get you some books to pass the time if you want” she offers while she lifts his gown for the other change. Patrick tenses and finds himself wanting to pull it down immediately, he’s not wearing any underwear for Christ’s sake; it’s a new feeling for him because he’s never been self-conscious. On the other hand he never had been that vulnerable before either.

 “Why are you so nice to me?” he asks instead and hates that he has come to a point where he has to question people’s intentions. His mom always said he was way too trusting, that he needed to shield himself but Patrick couldn’t help but believe in the good in others.

The nurse’s hand stops and she stares up at him “I’m a nurse Mr. Kane” she states “I’m here to take care of people no matter who they are or what they’ve done. You’re getting no special treatment but you’re not getting any less than all the others”

Patrick swallows hard and nods, he wants to say thank you but it seems foolish for some weird reason.

“All done” the nurse says and gathers up her supplies while Patrick covers himself hurriedly. “Now I just need to take your temperature and we’re finished”

She sticks one of those fancy thermometers in his ear and it beeps shortly after. “You’re doing good” she comments “you’ll need an IV change in a couple of hours and they’ll probably give you something more than soup today, how long can you go with a little sugar in your IV, right?”

Patrick finds himself smiling genuinely for the first time in what seems like forever “Thank you” he says this time and it’s not just an appreciation of her services. It’s a thank you for being nice, for making me feel normal, for making me forget just for a little while that I’m alone in a country that’s not my own; mostly, thank you for being a decent human being. He doesn’t say any of that but he wishes she hears them anyway.

The girl is about to walk out the door when she turns and smirks at Patrick “By the way, my name is Alyssa”

Patrick chuckles. In that instance she reminds him so much of Erica his heart clenches from how much he misses his family. He hopes that wherever she and Jess are they show an enemy the same kindness this girl just showed him.

ƥƙ

 

**Jonathan**

Jonny walks hurriedly wearing the darkness as a cloak. People would probably call him paranoid but he can’t shake the suspicion that he may be possibly being followed. Not at this instance, he made sure of that but in general. He doesn’t know if it is because he has watched one too many Hollywood movies or the fact that they are at war and he’s now probably considered a national threat but the logic course of action would be for them to have him been followed trying to gather evidence against him.

A week ago they wouldn’t have found any. The only thing Jonny was guilty of was his reluctance to fight in that war but he did that nonetheless. Now, he’s about to break one rule and make contact with a former member of his team because he had made a promise and damn the consequences he’s not about to go back on his word.

He doesn’t waste time to examine the neighbourhood or the house, he just glances quickly over his shoulder to make sure he’s not being watched and knocks on the back door per Brent’s instructions. He wants to tap his foot impatiently for the delay because there is no time for wasting but he’s even afraid to breathe loudly in case he draws attention.

Finally, a rough looking Bryan opens the door. He’s not filthy per se but he wouldn’t win any hygiene awards either. His dishevelled look and puffy red eyes indicate his emotional state. Eyes widen in shock as he sees Jonny but opens the door in a clear invitation.

“Let me guess, Brent sent you” Bryan says motioning at Jonny to take a seat.  It’s nothing more than a two-seat sofa, a bit worn out with a dent in the cushions, rugged just like its owner.

“He worries about you”

“He’s always been a worrywart. You shouldn’t have wasted your time”

“Bryan-“ Jonny starts and he’s not sure how to approach the subject “Alec said-“

“Alec needs to fuck off and stop burying his nose in my business. He should take a hint...” Bryan stops abruptly and Jonny is confused for a second. He knows that those two never got along but there’s no reason why Bryan would assume Alec is meddling.

“He just told me what happened after the explosion. You and Brent vanished and we had to go back and be asked lots of questions we had no answers for and then...” Jonny sighs and rubs his face with his palm “Look, I’m a mess, ok? I’m under investigation, relieved of my duties, I’m probably being followed and I most likely put us both in danger by showing up here. I’m under direct orders to make no contact with the members of my team”

“I’m not on your team, Captain” Bryan spits out and the word drips hostility “if you haven’t heard I’m no fit for duty. The army and I are done”

“I’ve heard.”

“So what are you doing here?”

“I promised Brent”

“I’m fine. I don’t need a keeper” Bryan says but they are empty words, it’s like he have said them so many times and he still can’t convince anyone, including himself, that he means them. “If you’re worried that I might spill, don’t. They’ve already asked me. I said nothing because I know nothing.”

“I’m sorry” Jonny genuinely states because there are no other words he could use “I...I never planned this, never planned anything actually, it’s just happened and now you’re all involved and you got thrown out and...I’m letting everyone down...I’m sorry”

Bryan surprises when instead of putting more blame or letting him off the hook he asks “Is he...is he alive?”

“Yeah”

“So what are you doing here?” it’s an accusation and a honest to God bewilderment

“Excuse me?”

“Why are you sitting here feeling sorry for yourself?”

Jonny doesn’t understand “Where should I be?”

Bryan sends him a death glare, Jonny is familiar with that expression, he has been the one using it often enough “Do you love him?”

Jonny is taken aback once again “Yes” he answers and it’s the most genuine and easy reply to all the questions he’s been asked recently

“Then why are you not with him?”

“He’s at the hospital under guard. It’s not easy to sneak in” the words feel like a weak justification under Bryan’s accusing stare

“So you left him alone in the hands of the enemy”

“What choice do I have? Do you think I want him there? Don’t you think I would have gotten him out if I knew how? He’s hurt and alone, probably scared and the only thing I can do is steal a few moments just to say goodbye before I even have a chance to say hello.”

Jonny can feel himself flush from anger and the desperation in his voice swifts something in Bryan because his eyes soften a little at the edges.

“I’ll help you” he offers

“Help me?”

“Get him out”

Jonny shakes his head “It’s not possible” his mind supplies but he can’t help the hope that foolishly rises in his heart.

“We just need a good plan”

“Even if we get him out where will we go? I’m the first person they’re gonna come after”

“I have something in mind”

“Why, Bryan? Why do you even want to help?” it’s not that Jonny doesn’t appreciate the offer or that he doesn’t welcome it but he is very puzzled by his behaviour.

“Because- because you have something I never got... a chance”

 

Ĵƫ

 

Jonny curses under his breath as his knee and forearm make contact with the wall and he loses his balance. It’s a blessing that his right foot is solid in the marble and his hand grips tightly at the corner or he’s sure he’d have fallen down. He thanks God that the railing is so low or impotence would have been his imminent future. He hears Cara gasp and he turns slightly to mouth at her that he’s fine. Both his knee and forearm burn and he thinks they’re scraped even possible bleeding a little but Jonny had taken bigger hits and it’s not even important.

He goes for the door only to find it locked but before he can face Cara to let her know he sees a shadow approaching. There’s nowhere to hide and no chance to get back so he just stays there, feet cemented and heart beating faster than ever. The only thing he manages to do it think ‘this is it; this is the end’

Then two things happen at once. He hears something crush, Cara’s voice somewhere ahead and distantly, apologising profusely and the shadow on the window shushing him with a finger on the mouth as it cracks the door open just so.

Jonny remains petrified until he hears the door close with quite a bang. It startles Patrick awake and he jerks his head once to the door and then towards Jonny wide-eyed and panting.

“You scared the shit out of me” Patrick protests when Jonny is close enough to hear the whisper.

“Sorry” he replies timorously, he doesn’t have time to waste on further explanation.

“You came”

“Of course I did. I’ll always-“ Jonny cuts himself and he feels his cheeks burn.

“You’ll always what?” Patrick asks teasingly, the glimmer in his eyes indication enough of his understanding.

 “I was gonna say I’ll always come but that’s corny, right? Go on, make fun of me” _I’ll always be here_ Jonny wants to say _I’ll never leave you_ he wants to promise but he knows it will be a lie and he doesn’t dare, not even to make Patrick feel a bit better.

“Nah, I’ll pass this time”

“How are you feeling?”

“Better. No fever so no infection, the wounds are healing nicely but still stuck here” he pouts “I had pudding!” he adds gleefully.

Jonny smiles “That’s great. I need you to listen” he starts and he hates that he always has to open the discussion with that phrase because there’s never enough time for anything else “I have to go away tonight.” The flash of hurt in Patrick’s eyes stabs him in the heart but he doesn’t falter “I’ll be at my parent’s house. I need to be seen somewhere. Tomorrow night, about this time, someone will come to get you. You need to promise me that whatever you see or hear you won’t be scared. Don’t put up a fight. Just follow him. He’s going to take you somewhere safe and I promise- I promise I’ll come to you as soon as I can”

Patrick just stares at him confused but nothing more than that. It’s Jonny’s turn to panic. “Shit! Shit! I didn’t even think...Do you want to get out of here? Man, I should have asked. I always assume. I know it’s a great risk. I got so caught up in planning I never thought” he’s rambling now.

“Jonny, calm down man and explain. I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

Jonny takes a deep breath “I have a...friend, a guy from my unit and he can help us bust you out of here. If you want that is”

“And then what?”

“Then we hide.”

“For how long?”

Jonny shakes his head “I don’t know. All I know is that I can’t leave you here. As soon as you recover they’re gonna take you away, Pat and there won’t be anything I can do”

“I don’t know...I...I’m scared Jonny” Patrick admits

Jonny searched for his uninjured hand and when he finds it he squeezes it with maybe a little more force than he intended. Patrick doesn’t flinch and doesn’t protest.

“I know. I am too but Pat what other choice do we have?”

“I can...I can stay. We’ve done nothing wrong Jonny. They can’t punish us for running into each other”

Jonny nods “Yeah. It was a long shot anyway and I had no right-“

“Jonny, I’m not saying no. I just...We’re gonna run and we’re gonna hide and then what? They’re gonna come for me and Jonny, I’m...I’m nobody to them, they don’t care. They will keep me prisoner or they’ll send me back but you- you Jonny they’re gonna charge you with treason.”

“I don’t care” Jonny says and at that moment he means it. He’s scared to death, he’s not brave he never was but he’s determined to ensure Patrick’s safety. That’s his number one priority and maybe whatever comes next will be totally worth it as long as Patrick doesn’t have to suffer anymore.

“I do!”

Jonny’s heart swell and plummets at the same time “Where does that leave us?”

Patrick casts his eyes to the sheet “I don’t know.”

Jonny remains silent; his brain helpfully supplies all the reasons why Patrick is right but something inside him is ripped to shreds. It’s probably the certainty he had that Pat would jump to the opportunity to follow him, to be with him for as much time they’d allow them. This new selfish and reckless Jonny is nothing he himself had gotten used to yet and this anger at Patrick that bubble inside him sinks him a bit further down.

He needs to go and it’s not from fear of getting caught this time. It hurts and the last thing he wants is to cry and plead, he doesn’t want to manipulate Patrick into giving in. He needs Patrick to want it as bad as he does.

“I have to go” he mumbles and tries to get up but Patrick doesn’t let go of his hand.

“Jonny” Patrick says but it’s a plea if Jonny ever heard any.

It’s difficult for him to look at Patrick right now but he can’t help his gaze when it travels to Pat’s eyes. “I need to think, ok? Please? It’s so hard, Jonny. I’m not even allowed to leave this bed. I’m not strong enough. Just...just give me a day, ok? Give me a day, please.”

Jonny reluctantly nods. He stands up to leave and this time Patrick doesn’t stop him. Mid-step he realises he’s about to turn his back leaving Patrick to think that Jonny’s mad at him, go away without leaving a kiss on Patrick’s lips. It’s weird how you can get used to a simple gesture in a few days, especially when you have been craving for it for years.

He turns back and crushes his mouth with Pat’s. He doesn’t give him time to respond.

He flees.

Ĵƫ


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I promised more Jonny/Patrick together in this chapter but the story didn't turn out quite like I had planned. Up side, we're done with distractions and from now on it's going to be all Kazer all the time! (hopefully!)

**Patrick**

Patrick had a restless night, not being able to sleep after Jonny’s departure until fatigue got the better of him and he gave in.

This morning he was woken up by the doctor’s visit. His words were encouraging on the physical aspect but Patrick wished there was someone to find a solution to untangle his emotional state. He thought that allowing him to a stroll in the yard, even on a damn wheelchair would take his mind of things at least for a while but his chance for a breath of fresh air was cut short when sirens sounded and the hospital was flooded by ambulances with bloody men, limps and intestines hanging around, the smell of burned flesh rising the bile in Patricks mouth.

That’s how he found himself back in the isolation of his room while the guard shot daggers at him with his eyes.

Patrick sits on his bed weighing his options in his head. He can stay right here, in this confinement that smells of copper and death with guards over his head ready to take him away as soon as he’s able to walk. He hears the screams and the wails from the yard, injured soldiers and grieving families and he knows he had no part in that but they still know he doesn’t belong and that makes him the villain.

He can leave, put all his faith in Jonny once again and run. Jonny will protect him as well as he can but for how long and for what cost? They’ll be on the run, looking over their shoulders for the rest of their lives. There will be no going back. Even if this horrible war is over he and Jonny would be deserters and neither country responds well to treason.

His father wanted him to fight, his sisters put their lives on hold for the cause. Jackie wanted them to run and his mom was fighting an inner battle of her own. Jonny wants him to flee, hide somewhere and _be_.

Patrick wants to stop being scared. There’s a constant, nagging fear nudging him from within.  A fear that will shift but not dissipate whichever way he chooses to go. On the one side, fear tangles hands with hope. He might be allowed to return home, back to his family, watch his sisters... watch them growing away, making families of their own and Patrick... Patrick will be alone. He can’t pinpoint the exact moment his head and his heart agreed that Jonny is the One but they did and they won’t allow him to settle for anything else.

On the other side, he gets Jonny. He gets companionship and love and maybe a future if they leave them alone long enough to built one. He gets paranoia and restlessness as well. He loses everything else that lies on the one side.

Patrick weighs gains and losses and the scale doesn’t tip on either side.

Patrick has reached an impasse.

ƥƙ

 

**Jonathan**

Jonny left Patrick’s room devastated. All their lives Jonny and Patrick went hand in hand; the few times their roads diverged, only to be reconnected on the next turn, it was not of their own choosing. When they were able to decide, they always put up a united front. Yet now, this very instance, the defining moment, Patrick will jump ship; Jonny can feel it in his bones and even though it kills him inside he can’t really fault him.

Jonny has nothing to offer; nothing stable and tangible, not even hope just a minor probability. He offers himself and a dream; they don’t measure up to what across the border holds. He has half a mind to return and release Patrick of the one day timeframe. His goal was never to hurt Patrick or enmesh him in a web of dilemmas and cutting ties; the one thing Jonny ever wanted was for him to be happy; not the elusive notion but the kind of happiness that comes from being whole and complacent, the kind that Jonny as hard as he wishes would probably fail to proffer.

He stops at the designated point of contact and leaves a message for Bryan under the second tile on the right hand corner of the establishment’s bathroom. His life has become a surreal mix of fact and fantasy it would be laughable if it didn’t hurt that badly.

He avoids his parent’s house because he’s not ready to give explanations he doesn’t possesses answers for and he prefers for them to be surprised rather than act it when the time comes to be questioned. He does the only thing left.

He retreats to his house to lick his wounds.

Ĵƫ

 

**Patrick**

In all his life Patrick had reserved his wishes for birthday candles and had fought hard for the rest but now he begins all his thoughts with that word. Wish. It’s strikingly odd to Patrick that with the abundance of English words there isn’t an exact synonym for those four letters. Nothing measures up, nothing comes remotely close.

Patrick wishes the physical pain could get back, to drug and numb him so he can’t sense or feel anything, to give him something that would trap him in dream land and eliminate the ache in his heart. Getting better, eating more, hurting less means one more step towards been taken away, one less dose of medicine that leaves him lucid enough for thoughts to haunt his mind.

He had been wishing for the day to end so he can draw a little more strength from Jonny while still dreading the visit without a concrete answer to give him. By the time light gave its place to darkness Patrick had become more jittery and eerie. He doesn’t have a watch to tell the time but the silence that fills the place tells him that Jonny is going to show up soon.

He wishes he could call him, if he can’t see the slouch of his shoulders and the heartbreak in his eyes he might be able to deny him. He fears that face to face he’d be unable to be the reason for Jonny’s misery. Jonny will dunk his head and try desperately to hide the affect, he will listen stoically hug him and wish him all the best and he will mean it; Patrick knows he will.

Want and need have become one unit for Patrick; he wants and needs to be free, he wants and needs to be close to Jonny, he wants and needs to return home, he wants and needs to hold a stick in his hand once again, he wants and needs to stop hurting himself and the ones he loves.

Somewhere between wishing and wanting and needing he has missed Jonny’s silent entrance. That’s Jonny; always so polite and discreet, always so collected and patient. Patrick can’t help the fond smile that appears on his lips.

“Hey” the greeting is quiet and soft, a little hesitant as well. Jonny hasn’t approached him yet and Patrick knows it’s his way of protecting himself, hoping the distance will lighten the blow. Patrick hates it that Jonny turned up expecting the worse.

“Hey”

“Jonny, I-“ _I haven’t made a decision_ , _I need more time_ , _I can’t do it_ , _I’ll come with you_ , _I want_ , _I need_ , _I wish_ , _I’m sorry_...so many words he can say but nothing comes out.

“Don’t” Jonny says and it’s neither rough nor commanding “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have...I didn’t think it through”

Patrick can feel the crack inside; he had thought of every possibility but Jonny changing his mind was never one of them.

“It wasn’t fair to put you through that. I was selfish, ok? I know that and I’m sorry. I never meant... I wanted for you to be safe. Just listen... You don’t have to...”

Jonny speaks but Patrick hardly listens. He feels himself sinking in a bottomless pit, keeps falling and there’s nowhere to land.

“Let me get you out of here” Jonny says and Patrick’s brain barely catches up with his ears “Give me a week, ten days top, just enough for you to heal and then...then I swear, I’ll sneak you back across the border. I know every inch and I have help. I promise you, I will get you home.”

Patrick can feel his eyes well with unshed tears. He’s stupidly emotional as of late but... this... how can he stay unaffected? Jonny thinks he’s being selfish, Patrick can sense it in his pleading tone. He asks for just a scrape of time, a way to be able to take care of Patrick and hold him a little longer before he has to let him go and still somehow manages to make himself feel like he’s pushing for something that would result in his own gaining.

Patrick wants to smack him upside the head for always putting others before his own well being. He also wants to clinch onto him until Jonny lets him take care of him in return, give back just as good as he gets.

They are a pair of messed up idiots and instead of the realization alarming him it makes him warm inside. There’s no other way to answer but with an unreserved agreement.

ƥƙ

 

**Jonathan**

 

Jonny can’t help but think that he might have talked in haste; maybe if he had just waited for Patrick to give him an answer he could now have more than two weeks with him. The alternative though, a decline, a few stolen minutes in the dark was even worse. So Jonny does what he always did best when it came to Patrick, he settles. He settles for borrowed time, a stolen smile, a few more minutes. He grabs hold on those crumbs so he won’t end up with nothing at all.

He goes to his parent’s house first thing in the morning, not because he’s ready for the explanations he has to give but because he needs the alibi. He watches his mother’s eyes shine hopefully for Jonny’s disentanglement from the military even if it’s temporary and he hates the shadow of fear he sees there when she hears the reason behind it.

He doesn’t speak a word of the plan even when she frantically asks about Patrick’s fate. He loves his mother even more at that moment. He always knew she was fond of Patrick but to watch the same expression of concern she has for her own children, is something that makes Jonny unashamedly close the distance and envelop her into a tight hug.

He helps with lunch and chores and even spends the evening playing Dame de pique with her. He needs the distraction but he also needs his mother’s calming presence, even the comfort. He lets her pamper him for the first time in forever. He was never a needy kid; he was always one of those who wanted to do everything by themselves so she didn’t have a chance to when he was growing up. Today, they made an unspoken agreement to allow themselves that consolation.

He is so wrung out he doesn’t even realise he’s drifting to sleep; all his mind registers is a soft peck on the top of his head and a sense of _safe_ and _loved_.

Ĵƫ

 

**Patrick**

Patrick got his external stitches cut first thing in the morning, after milk and toast for breakfast and three yellow-white pills he was forced to swallow, which earned him a wheel chaired stroll in the yard and a warning that his internal ones were still healing so he shouldn’t think that it was ok to overexert himself.

The day was really lovely; sunny but with a bit of a cool breeze and for a quick moment Patrick was able to fool himself into thinking he was on vacation. Alyssa was back again today looking a lot less tired, clearly having taken a day off and a bit of a well deserved rest. He thought to ask her a couple of times if she was Dan’s cousin but he decided against it. In the off chance that she wasn’t he could have gotten the other girl in a lot of trouble.

He was sure she gave him the answer herself when she made an offhand comment about him living this place _in no time_ until they were approached by a short dark-haired girl. Alyssa greeted her warmly and chatted for a moment before she asked her to adjust something on his casted hand. He didn’t understand why she couldn’t just come around and do it herself or what it was exactly she needed to fix but he felt the girl, Cara Alyssa had called her, slip a piece of paper in the space between his hand and his cast.

He tried hard to not show any signs of puzzlement and even greater not to ask the questions that burned his tongue but managed it in the end. When he was back in his room alone and safe, he took out the paper. There was only a number scribbled there. He had a time.

He forced himself to eat lunch and even managed a few hours of sleep. He woke up feeling a bit stronger and less achy and occupied himself with a book that Alyssa had brought him. He took another pill with his supper and stayed in his bed waiting.

That’s what he’s still doing. He waits. He ignores the running and the anguished voices outside his door and refuses to acknowledge the fact that there are once again injured people being brought in. He pretends that the screaming is actually cheers and the commotion is not due to bombs and gun shots but rather rabid fans that have just seen their team hoist a Cup.  Brandon was right; the land of denial is a better place than the one he currently lives on; dreams are better than reality as well but sometimes life is a nightmare you just can’t escape. You absorb the fear, you let the sweat trickle down your spine and wait it out.

As the blast shakes the earth the clock hands probably show fear but Jonny’s voice echoes in his head ‘ _no matter what happens, no matter what you hear, don’t get scared_ ’. This is a diversion he knows but his heart must have missed the memo because it’s thudding behind his ribcage.

He manages to get out of his bed and into the wheelchair. His leg gives a twitch and a jolt of pain runs through him but Patrick just grinds his teeth and breathes through it. He has to rub slightly at his abdomen as soon as he sits because that part is sore as well but he needs to go ahead with the plan.

He wheels himself to the door and opens it. He doesn’t have to pretend to be scared; the guard doesn’t have to know that it’s not because of the bomb. The minute he turns the handle and cracks the door open the guard jerks his head towards him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he growls “Get back inside”

“I... what’s going on?” he fakes it as well as he can, he needs to sound sleepy and scared, a bit disoriented as well.

“Setting off fireworks” God Patrick hates sarcasm “What do you think it’s going on? Your buddies crossed a line, pal. Who attacks a hospital? You people disgust me”

It takes a moment of seer panic before Patrick realises that by buddies he means the Americans. Just as the wave of relief starts to settle, another blast shakes the room. Patrick feels the dangle as the wheels turn. The guard shoves him inside and slams the door shut. The dread comes when he hears the lock being turned. Patrick is trapped in the room. He doesn’t know if that detail was regarded in the initial plan.

He hates that he feels so helpless and for more than an instance regret fills him. He should have never agreed to this. He’s not cut out for this kind of bravery. He will hate himself later, he’s sure of it. Not for being faint hearted but for being eager enough to turn his back on Jonny.

He has an uncontrollable urge to just close his eyes and let fate decide what happens next. Although he knows he should be delighted by Jonny’s intention he can’t help but have a minor cavil about the way he chose to proceed.

A string of curses sound behind him; Patrick distinguishes a muttered ‘shit’ probably a ‘fuck’ and the loud and clear ‘goddamn’.

He wheels around and comes face to face with a guy, tall and built and utterly intimidating “Who are you?” he asks because yes he does expect someone to come and rescue him but it doesn’t hurt to be cautious.

“Can we leave the meet and greet for later? Since when are you in a wheelchair? How am I supposed to get you the hell out of here when you can’t even walk?”

Patrick takes offense because he’s not a goddamn invalid “I can walk” he states petulantly. He doesn’t really like his rescuer, he seems like an asshole.

“Sure, ok” his words mean the exact opposite “Can you climb though? Can you run?”

“I’m not handicapped you ass!”

“Says the guy in the wheelchair.”

“Fuck you”

“Not interested but quite flattered”

“Oh.My.God! You’re...you’re-“

“Your ticket out of here. Also, a bit late with the plan. Can we move on now?”

“I’m not going anywhere with you”

Patrick sees the guy falter for the first time “Look, we need to hurry up. I can’t leave you behind ‘cause then Cap will gonna try and have my head and I don’t really want to see him hurt himself trying”

Patrick’s pretty sure he’s going to be suffocated by this guy’s ego! Too bad he needs him right now “Ok but just for the record, I don’t like you”

The guy brings his hand towards his heart in one dramatic motion “I’m deeply wounded and here I thought we were becoming best buds”

Patrick will need to have a talk with Jonny later on about the kind of crowd he associates himself with lately.  He swallows the offensive words he yearns to shout and gets out of the wheelchair. His leg bucks from not being used in sometime and Patrick tried to find something to grab hold of. The guy, what is his name anyway?, rushes at his side and steadies him. He turns him towards the bed and leaves him there.

“Sit here. I’ll bring your chair down and come back to get you.”

“I don’t think I can make it” Patrick admits sadly.

“You will. I’ll need to buy us a little more time but there’s no way you’re staying here. Cap will have a coronary.”

Patrick nods affirmatively. He watches the guy disappear with the wheelchair in his hands. A few minutes later there’s another boom but the sound is a bit different. Patrick guesses a grenade but he can’t be sure.

The guy comes back a while later and gives Patrick a brief lecture on dos and don’ts. There’s no gap between the balconies and the divider is not that high. The guy mounts it like it’s a ditch and he just has to lift his foot and then hauls Patrick by the armpits and crosses him over like he’s a feather. Patrick is slightly impressed even if he doesn’t appreciate being manhandled by a complete stranger.

The corner balcony is a bit more confined but Patrick is order to hold on the divider as the guy starts to climb down a ladder. “Can you follow? I can’t carry you down?”

Patrick nods. It takes much effort to turn around and reach that first step. His knuckles turn white from grabbing too tight. His leg twitches and can’t hold his weight but there’s a solid hand on his back almost immediately. Patrick tries his best not to cry in agony and pushes himself a little further.

For a moment he can’t feel the hand on his back and he seems like he’s weightless. There’s a thud and a whisper “Jump. I got you”

Patrick’s scared. He doesn’t want to let go. “Just do it”

Patrick shakes his head.

There’s a pause and then he’s being yanked backwards. He tries to hold on the step but his un-casted arm is in the air and he can’t really grab anything with the other. Patrick takes a deep breath and allows himself to fall.

The guy catches him and basically has to force him on the wheelchair because Patrick is so out of his mind from fear and pain that he seems reluctant to let go. The guy, he really needs to ask his name because this is ridiculous, fishes something out of his pocket and presses hard. The explosion sounds not a minute later and even if it’s somewhere far on his left it makes Patrick jump.

He doesn’t know how much time passes while he’s being wheeled away. They stop near a truck that is conveniently hidden at a dark corner and he’s getting picked up and settled in the back seat “Lie down” is the only thing the guy says and Patrick is too tired to argue.

Just before exhaustion gets the better of him, Patrick can’t help but feel a bit disappointed by the whole experience. That is not how it is done in the movies.

His life is a series of let downs.

ƥƙ

 

 


	9. Day 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zarah thinks I should offer whiskey and cigarettes for this chapter. I'll throw in a couple of cookies as well because... cookies. I hope that helps??

**Day 1**

Jonny woke up just like he imagined, by aggressive bangs at the door, uniforms and budges spewing accusations and searching the place before they dragged him to every property he owned for the same procedure. He answered their questions and opened his home. He ignored their threatening tone and by the end there he was getting pretty tired of repeating himself.

In an act of cooperation and good faith he even offered permission for his lake cabin to be searched. If they wanted to go on a wild goose chase in the secluded area that his sanctuary laid while the Americans were right around the corner who was Jonny to stop them?

He is exhausted, his voice is hoarse and all his muscles ache but he doesn’t care. He knows that Patrick made it out and that they have nothing on them but mere speculations. Sure, he’ll be closely monitored but they already have a plan for that.

 He cleans up, takes a shower and chooses his clothes carefully. It’s all so silly; he feels like a teenager on his first date. He takes the backpack with a few necessities and sneaks out. He still looks over his shoulder even though he spent most of the evening watching and cataloguing every suspicious move. He’s pretty certain he overreacted a couple of times but better safe than sorry.

He walks as hurriedly and quietly as he can manage not to raise suspicion and even does a circle to make sure he’s not being followed. He finds the car in the exact spot Bryan had said it’d be and drives off. He steps on the gas pedal and he’s being as reckless as everyone used to tease him he was. He can’t wait to get to Patrick. It’s the only thing that matters at this point.

Even with the directions he has a hard time finding the cabin, if you can call a cabin the thing he sees in front of him. It’s more like a rundown shed than anything but the fact that it provides Patrick sanctuary makes Jonny think of it more of a shield.

He walks inside carefully, trying not to use much force on the door because it looks one push away from collapsing. Patrick is lying on the mattress, or more accurately what’s left of it, curled in himself and asleep. Jonny’s heart exults and bleeds at the same time.

He walks the few steps between them and sits by his side. He doesn’t want to wake him up but time presses. He pets his head softly, more of a caress really and the gesture is unfamiliar to him. He never had the urge to be so gentle with anyone else before. Patrick has that effect on him; he wakes up a side of Jonny that apparently was in deep sleep inside him.

“Pat” he says and this time it doesn’t have to come as a whisper. He still pets his hair but shakes his shoulder a bit as well.

Patrick grunts and groans as he tries to adjust himself

“Pat wake up” that earns him another groan but this time Pat blinks and finally opens his eyes.

“Hey” Jonny greets and Patrick hums “Are you alright? How are you feeling?”

“Sleepy” Patrick mumbles “We ok?”

“Everything’s fine, don’t worry”

Patrick tries to turn and moans, sending Jonny into panicking mode “Hey, are you ok? do you need painkillers? I brought some...and water. I brought you a blanket as well. Are you cold? Here, let me get the backpack”

Patrick laughs and groans at the same time “Calm down dude”

Jonny can’t help the reflex “Don’t call me dude!”

He and Patrick both chuckle, Patrick’s more throaty and strained but it’s genuine nonetheless.

Jonny can’t fight it any longer; he just scoops him up a little and hugs him. It’s a bone crushing hug and he’s probably not doing any favours to Patrick’s injuries but he just can’t let go, not even a little, nor at all. Patrick doesn’t seem to mind, he hugs just as tightly with both hands. His cast digs into Jonny’s back and it’s a little painful but Jonny revels in the feeling. He breaths him in, buries his nose in his neck and just inhales. It’s familiar and comforting and it feels like home.

He lets go after a while because the angle is awkward and his back hurts, but mostly...mostly because he needs to kiss Patrick. He just gives a couple inches space between them not ready to be fully out of contact and cups the back of Patrick’s neck.

“May I?” he asks, he needs the permission but he needs the reassurance that that’s what Patrick wants as well.

Patrick rolls his eyes “Jonny......Shut up and kiss me, dude!”

Jonny would protest before leaning in to take a kiss but Patrick actually beats him to it. He pulls Jonny down with his casted hand and he swallows the painful groan with his mouth. It’s nothing like Jonny had ever felt before. It’s desire and desperation and something unidentifiable. It’s teeth and tongue, maybe a little too much tongue and spit and all kinds of unsanitary and horrible and Patrick’s mouth feels drained and his breath smells stale but it’s the most beautiful thing Jonny has ever experienced.

They come up for air and Jonny can feel Patrick chest rise and fall against his. He rests their foreheads together and just stays there until he feels Patrick tense. He lets go a bit abruptly ready to panic in an instance.

“Are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

Patrick shakes his head “Still sore but not half bad for my first escape, right?”

Jonny ruffles his hair affectionately. Sometimes he just watches Pat and all he sees is that eleven year old kid ready to fight tooth and nail for what he wants while smiling brighter than the sun. He feels guilty when that happens because Patrick is not some fragile thing that needs to be catered and handle with care but he can’t help the protectiveness, and maybe slight possessiveness but that’s a secret, that Patrick raises in him.

He’s pretty sure that if the room wasn’t dimly lit by a lamp Patrick would see the pink in his ears. Being a sap when it comes to Patrick is something Jonny had made peace with a long time ago but he never got over the getting embarrassed stage.

He gets up and grabs the backpack, searches through it and hands Patrick some ibuprofen and the water bottle “Take this. I have some crackers and potato chips. I didn’t have any chocolate but I have a protein bar”

Patrick laughs “Of course you do”

“Shut up! I brought you some Gatorade as well. You need fluids. I know you need better food as well but I didn’t exactly have time to get anything”

“Did they come after you?” Patrick asks after he swallows the pill.

“Nothing much, don’t worry. Just the typical ask and search. Mom gave them the laser eyes, kind of threatened them in French to kick their asses if anything happened to you but I don’t think they understood” Jonny’s probably have a dumb proud expression on his face but he just can’t help it.

“Does she... you know, know?”

“Know what?”

“About-“

“Me?”

“Us”

Jonny opens his mouth to answer but something in his expression makes Patrick give him the sting eyes “I swear to God if you ask me if there’s an us I’ll hit you in the head with the cast! Bet you don’t want another concussion”

Jonny swallows past the lump and can’t help the twitch on his lips “She knows the me part at least.”

Patrick taps his hand “I figured you’d do a half-ass job. I guess I have to do everything by myself, as always.”

Jonny knows it’s a tease, they try to find a way around this unique situation and return back to normal, or as close as they can get but the words hurt a bit “You were never alone, ok? I’ve always been there for you. I never left you”

Patrick’s eyes darken and there’s pain there too “You did though”

“You think I wanted to?”

“No...but you left”

“I was taken away. What was I supposed to do?” unconsciously Jonny shifts away from Patrick’s body

“Run...hide... something...anything...”

“I couldn’t”

“You could, you chose not to”

“What exactly are you accusing me of, Kaner?” the nickname slips from his lips involuntarily. It’s a default setting of their screaming matches along with ‘asshole’ and ‘fuck you’.

“Bailing...Tazer” that burns just as the anger that boils inside Jonny. He jumps at the pain and stands to face the accusation.

“Fuck you!” word number two: check “I didn’t bail. Don’t you think I would have run if I could get away with it?”

“I ran” Patrick states and it’s calm and cool and it sends shivers down Jonny’s spine. It throws him off and he can’t find his voice to answer.

“That’s different” he manages in the end and it’s nothing more than a mumble.

“No, it’s not. You came and told me ‘come with me, I’ll get you out’ and I did. I followed you, like I always do.”

“You wouldn’t even come if I didn’t promise to send you home!” he doesn’t know how this round of blame began but he has cards up his sleeve as well.

He can see Patrick wince a bit and it gives him a twisted satisfaction “You don’t know that” he says but it’s a weak attempt that doesn’t convince.

“I do. I know you, remember?”

“You don’t know shit”

“Really? That’s the best you can do?”

“That’s the best you deserve!”

“I don’t deserve this shit, asshole” word number three: check “I’m risking everything to help you, doesn’t it mean anything to you?”

“You’re not the only one taking risks, _asshole_. What do you think I’m doing?  A stroll in the park? But I’m here aren’t I?”

“For how long, Patrick? A week, ten days? That’s all you’re willing to give.”

“It’s more than you ever gave me!” Patrick fucking screams from the top of his lungs. It’s a good thing there in the middle of nowhere or else the whole fight would have been in vain; they would both be in deeper shit than they already are.

“You stood there, saying you love me then turned your back like you didn’t just fuck my world a little bit more and left. You took your suitcases and you didn’t even blink. Did you even stop to think what it did to me or were you too busy playing the good Canadian soldier, _Captain_?”

If he had been hit by a truck Jonny is sure it would have hurt less.  “Is that really what you think?” he asks and his voice is just as broken as he feels “That after years... _years_ Patrick of wanting and wishing I...” the unfairness battles with pride inside Jonny. He doesn’t know how they came to this. This very moment he doesn’t even know what he’s fighting to protect.

He takes a deep breath and puts on his mask “You know what? You’re right. I came here and jumped into the uniform. I held and planted bombs with a smile on my face. Every time they went boom my hands weren’t covered in blood, it was just red and blue stripes and exploding stars. And I never, ever thought of you...not once, because why would I? You didn’t matter”

He aims to kill not to wound, he hates himself for it but he hates the tap tap of his bleeding heart in his chest that much more. He can feel it dripping drop by drop. He wishes it would just flood to get it over with.

“You- you don’t mean that” Patrick says and it’s half conviction half wish.

“Isn’t that what you thought you’d hear? I’m giving it to you. What more do you want?”

“Fuck Jonny, I just want the truth. I want answers goddamn it!”

“I’ve been giving you truths for years! You were just blind and deaf. You watch but you don’t see, Patrick. You hear but you never listen.” He fumbles around in his pocket and digs out his little notebook. Ever since he started it he always carries it with him. “You want truths? Here are your truths Patrick. I hope you’re satisfied” he says and tosses it at the mattress. He has nothing left to lose except his pride. It’s a small price to pay for coming on top in this argument.

He turns his back and walks away; he can’t be here, not for this.

“That’s it? You’re leaving?” Patrick asks and Jonny doesn’t miss the unspoken _again_ that hangs between them.

Jonny shakes his head and turns around “I never left” he whispers like it’s a secret. He guesses it is since Patrick doesn’t seem to get it; the ‘ _you will’_ is also left unsaid. “I have to be back before dawn. I’ll come back tomorrow night to take you home-“he pauses and corrects himself “-my place I mean, if that’s what you want of course. If not... if... Bryan will be here at some point. If you want to turn yourself in, or if you think you’re strong enough we can hurry up with the plan and get you to the border instead. It’s your call, Patrick”

“Jonny...I...”

Jonny doesn’t stay to listen, if that means that he’s leaving and he just invalidated everything he swore he’ll never do so be it. He has nothing more...he’s empty.

The last thing he hears before he gets in the car and drives away is a thud that shakes the door, probably the water bottle banging against it, and Patrick’s screaming “Fuck you”

Ĵƫ

 

 Patrick screams till his voice is hoarse and his throat hurts. It’s frustration and rage and pain all wrapped up in a series of cries tied with a bow of guilt. The anger and ache he had been feeling ever since he was left alone in Chicago had been bubbling inside him like lava and in one mere second the volcano erupted before he could even blink. That was not the way he imagined that conversation going down.

He wants to cry victim and put all blame on Jonny but deep inside he knows he’s at fault as well. There’s no way he would ever agree that the largest portion of the blame falls on him and that might be juvenile behaviour but he doesn’t care. There was never a real rivalry between them but there was always competition. Patrick doesn’t know why he thought this could be any different. He wants to though; he doesn’t understand how they could just put the hurt they inflict on each other in a scale and stand there to see whose sorrow weighs more.

He eyes the notebook suspiciously for a while. He has an inkling that what’s in there would end up making him feel like an asshole and he’s not sure he’s ready for that. His curiosity isn’t that patient though and after a while Patrick gives in and picks it up.

The writing is neat and so very Jonny, it doesn’t go over or under the lines and there are no smudges but some curves at points show clearly that the hand that was writing wasn’t as steady as it wanted to appear.

“ _If by some miracle this notebook survives but I don’t and if it somehow ends up in your hands..._ ” it starts and Patrick wants to make fun of the cliché ‘if you’re reading this, it means I’m dead’ but the thought of Jonny not surviving is something he can’t process. “ _I don’t know how to say goodbye, not to you_ ”. Clearly, this is not a letter or an essay. It’s bits and pieces of thoughts that put together don’t make much sense.

“ _I wish you were here_ ” is crossed out with a very careful straight line followed by “ _I wish I was with you_ ” that stayed intact.

“ _Brent says that it helps to write down thoughts and feelings but my mind is so overwhelmed I don’t always manage to put them together. He laughed at me for getting frustrated and told me to give it time. You would like him. He’s a bit shy and a lot quiet just like you; not the shy part. I don’t even think you know the definition of the word. Sometimes I call his name and I expect to hear Seabs’ voice answer me. Is it weird that I feel like I’ve replaced one Brent for another? I want to tell you how much I miss the boys but I know that it would be unfair. I can always pick up the phone and call but you don’t get that chance.”_

Patrick wishes he smoked and even had a shot of whiskey because this is not something you can get through a hundred percent sober.

“ _Riley’s daughter has the flu and I gave him my mom’s recipe. I have a confession to make. The soup I got you that winter, remember the one when you were really sick and could barely keep any food down?...I didn’t buy it that’s why I didn’t know what to say when you asked where I got it. I told you I was just passing by the place and you were bitching too much at me to hurry to notice. The truth is, I made it. I didn’t know if you’d make fun of me from making soup from scratch with my very own grown vegetables or you’d just understand the reason behind doing it. I couldn’t risk either. I figured a small lie wouldn’t hurt either of us. I’m writing the recipe down so you can have it in case you ever need it. Just do me a favour and don’t cook it yourself. That would end in such a disaster_.”

Even reading about it, Patrick’s mouth waters; that was one damn delicious soup. He chooses to focus on that and not the way the truth makes him feel because it’s too soon to break down.

“ _Bryan and Alec keep fighting. It’s getting ugly and I can’t do anything to stop it. I don’t think I deserve the rank if I can’t even keep my men in line. It might get us killed... I’m scared...It’s the first time I admit it. You’re the only I one I would tell anyway. You gave me so much strength just by being close. You don’t know just how much I depended on you just being there_.”

Patrick can’t really imagine a frightened Jonny. He can’t put the picture in his head. You never can master to believe that your rock is not solid. Patrick doesn’t like this notebook at all.

_“It’s a cool night. We are camped outside and you can see the stars clearly. It reminds me of summers up in the lake. I wanted to take you there, in the cabin you so mocked me for, just lie down and show you the fireflies. You would have loved it; I can practically see the spark in your eyes. I don’t know why but I have a feeling that you wouldn’t mock me for it. I wouldn’t laugh at your misty eyes either. I swear._ ”

This image Patrick can envision. He’s seen enough pictures of Jonny’s place to know where they would lay their blanket; he can feel Jonny’s strong arms around him and his solid chest firm against his back. The fireflies are dancing in front of his irises and the cool breeze caresses his hair. Patrick wishes he could have lived it.

“ _We were behind schedule today...we...I was there...when it went off I was still there...I heard it...The sound was deafening even from afar...I heard the screams as well...I’m a killer, Pat... I took someone’s life...I’m a killer...I’m a killer...I’m sorry... I’m so sorry_.”

Patrick has a hard time reading this part. The always sturdy writing is now all loops and shakes. There’s a part in the middle that the ink fades here and there. If tears had a smell Patrick’s sure that it would hit his nostrils. He has seen Jonny’s red and puffy eyes but he had never let anyone close enough to witness him crying. He wants to puke; he wants to punch Jonny for never accepting comfort. He wants to hold him and shield him and whisper absolution again and again until Jonny himself believes he’s worthy of it.

“ _Trish sent us drawings yesterday. She hasn’t met us yet but her mom talks about daddy’s army friends. She drew me with a scold because that’s how her father looks when she’s being bad. She thinks that’s what we do to the Americans. I wish that’s all we did. At night I dreamed of a little girl with your eyes and my nose, blond curls and a berated look. She refused to jump in the pool without her bath ducklings. I wanted to blame you for spoiling her but I had a sense that that was all me. I want that future. I don’t know if I or we even get one but if we do, that’s what I want. It seems foolish and dangerous to have those kinds of dreams. I don’t even know if you’d want that. ~~If you’d want me~~.”_

Patrick smiles stupidly all the way through up till the last sentence. Jonny had questions and doubts and thoughts about children and a joined future. Patrick had been so preoccupied with the new revelations he never stopped to think what Jonny might be feeling. Patrick had done the very thing he had accused Jonny of.

“ _The combination to my safe is 1988. Don’t laugh. There’s a box in the far back. I...I’ve bought a white gold band...well, a pair of them.  I...I know you like your bling and gold... they were...they were a promise...I wasn’t... I got them to remind me that someday I would need to find the courage to talk to you... It was a promise to myself that I would try. If I don’t make it... They’re yours... I want you to use them. No- I really don’t but I still do. It hurts to think...but I want nothing more than for you to be happy. I want you to never forget either. I want you to look at them and miss me every day. I strive to be the better person but I don’t have it in me... I love you and love is selfish and possessive, it’s making a fool of yourself and building sand castles near the shore. I was never brave enough and I’m sorry. It’s ok if you don’t want them. I never quite believed that you would. Just, throw them in the lake. I always wanted to figure out a way to get you up there. If you can’t that’s ok too. Give them to Dan, he’ll know what to do_.”

Patrick is crying and he doesn’t even bother to hide his sobs, there’s no one there to listen. He’s back to spewing curses left and right. Typical Jonny, dropping a bomb without staying to face the music. He’s such an asshole and Patrick hates him. He really, really does.

“I do” he mumbles again and again like a broken record. It’s both a curse and a blessing. It’s both ‘I hate you’ and ‘till death do us part’. It’s both ‘I want to go home’ and ‘I want to build a home with you’.

It’s both ‘I choose your house’ and ‘I choose the border’.

ƥƙ


	10. Day 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> way ahead of schedule this time! yay! you're not gonna like me much for this though. I had every intention to continue but then the chapter would get way too long so I decided to split it in two parts.  
> Hey, upside you're getting it earlier, right?
> 
> comments always encouraged & appreciated. I always want to know what you think & if you have any suggestions or things you'd like me to avoid.
> 
> also, reminder that I suck at tagging so if I need to add anything please tell me :)
> 
> x

 

**Day 2**

Jonny plays the conversation he had with Patrick over and over in his head. The hurt still stings, the anger still burns but at a lower scale. He still thinks it’s unfair. There isn’t a single thing in the world he wouldn’t do for Patrick and that on itself is scary enough. He’s level headed enough at this point though to take into consideration Patrick’s accusations.

Patrick said that Jonny left without looking back and that much is true. Does it count for anything that if he had turned his head to have a last look he would probably had fallen apart at that entrance? Jonathan Toews does not fall apart in public. Maybe it’s egotistic and prideful but he doesn’t want the world to know he has weaknesses. He doesn’t want Patrick to know either. Jonny always wanted to be someone who Patrick would look up to, someone he would admire and turn to in need. Even though Patrick already had a great support system Jonny selfishly wanted to be the one taking care of him.

He comes to realize now how degrading a thought that had been, the subconscious assumption that Patrick even needed it. He didn’t, not most of the time anyway. Patrick was strong enough on his own and maybe by Jonny thinking he did, he belittled him without even meaning to. Jonny’s craving to be the knight in shining armour, to coddle and dandle him, making himself be important probably stem from the fact that he so much desired to be close to Patrick in any form possible. Mostly, he wanted Patrick to notice him; notice him as something more than a teammate or a friend, even if that was a strong shoulder to lean on because that would mean Patrick seeking comfort in him.

Patrick said that Jonny didn’t think about him and that was so far from the truth than Patrick will ever realise...or maybe he will now that Jonny had given him the notebook. He winces at the thought, at how vulnerable and naked he feels having just exposed his soul to him but maybe it’s better this way. Patrick needs to have all the facts and make a decision by himself without pressure and without secrets. He needs to see Jonny bare and decide he wants what he finds there and Jonny must trust him enough for once to let him in.

Patrick said that Jonny could have run, he could have hidden and that’s also true but Jonny’s ties to Chicago had been only two: hockey and Patrick. Hockey wasn’t an option at that point and Patrick hadn’t asked him to stay. The million dollar question that Jonny needs to answer to himself is, would he have if Patrick had asked? It is simple enough, yes he would have; he would have jumped before Patrick had a chance to finish his sentence. The catch is, the doubt and fear and possibly regret would have eaten him alive after that. Jonny is not a risk taker, he was never a rebel or a rule breaker but for Patrick he would have tried. What kind of person would that decision make him afterwards though?

There wouldn’t be even a corner for him in the US, they would have ran and would have hidden and they would have been wrecking both of their lives depriving themselves of their families and friends and a peaceful and healthy relationship. Jonny’s afraid that they wouldn’t have lasted; that’s his biggest fear. Jonny would have pushed over his limits for Patrick and maybe Patrick would have done the same in return and even if by some miracle they could have gotten away isolating themselves, clinging into each other, them against the world as much of a romantic notion as it is it certainly wouldn’t have been healthy.

He understands Patrick’s reluctance to make a choice now, he understands his need for time to think, he gets why Patrick has to go home. His heart is being shred to pieces by the inevitability but this is the only way to prove himself worthy. Jonny have waited years for what seemed a pipe dream, he can wait some more for the real deal. If they can have a future together it needs to be build in solid foundation, it needs to be strong and sturdy because they deserve nothing less.

 There’s a huge part of him that still can’t bear the thought of another separation but sometimes what makes a man decent is to make the hard choices. Patrick already did and this time is Jonny’s turn to follow.

Ĵƫ

 

Patrick slept better than he had in a long while but he woke up nervous and edgy. He and Jonny still had a long way to go until they were solid gold and he was afraid he might have screwed it up by pushing too far. He doubts it, especially after reading the whole notebook but you don’t always know another person’s breaking point until they’ve reached it and Patrick can’t help but fear that he drove Jonny over the edge. Not that Jonny would abandon him in his fate but he doesn’t want a future that doesn’t include Jonny in a new capacity than the one he previously had.

He hears an engine purring and he knows that Bryan is here, it’s a good thing too because Jonny’s provisions weren’t enough and Patrick’s famished. He needs to eat and take his pills because everything hurts and he needs to get out of this stupid mattress but he can’t do it himself.

Bryan, thank God he now knows the name and he can stop referring to him as the guy, walks in and Patricks eyes zero in on the package he carries.

“Is that food?” he asks impatiently

“Didn’t your mother teach you any manners?” Bryan replies and if it wasn’t for the fact that there is a teasing tone underneath the words Patrick would have felt like a scolded kid, this guy terrifies him more than his mother ever did and Donna Kane can be really intimidating when she wants.

“Good morning. How are you this lovely day?” he says and he prays Bryan has a sense of humour because the last thing he needs is to piss this guy off.

Bryan snorts “Smartass”

Patrick sighs in relief “Is that food?” he repeats.

“Depends on what you consider food. It’s soup and crackers. You need to take it easy, your stomach can’t handle too much too soon”

“Did...did you buy it?” he wants to flat out ask if Jonny made it because that would mean so much more than just feeding the ill.

Bryan suppresses a smile, Patrick is sure “Cap gave it to me”

Patrick tries to hide his smile as well and nods. He wants to make grabby hands and devour the whole thing but he doesn’t know the guy that well to make demands.

“Here, dig in, God knows you need it. You look like hell” Bryan offers the container and Patrick snatches it from him like he’s afraid he’s gonna take it back.

“You don’t look better yourself” he retorts as he fumbles to open the package “I was in the hospital, what’s your excuse”

“For a guy who needs my help you’re not very polite you know that?”

“Not Canadian” he says mid mouthful “Not required”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, what are you five?”

Patrick swallows “four and a half actually”

“Oh, he thinks he’s a comedian” Bryan huffs and Patrick grins.

He bites down a cracker and eats another spoonful of soup. He alternates or combines both and by the time he’s finished he thinks it might have been a good idea to breathe in between. He can feel his stomach a bit heavy. That doesn’t prevent him from exclaiming “That was awesome!”

Bryan’s lips twitch upright and Patrick doesn’t miss it this time either “You’re in a good mood today, what gives?”

Bryan is taken aback by the comment and his features harden. “What’s the game plan? I don’t have all day”

Back to business then, Patrick must have hit a nerve “emmm... wait for Jonny?”

Bryan nods “Ok. He can’t come until it’s dark.”

“I know”

“Alright then. Anything else?”

“Can you...Is it safe to go out?”

Bryan frowns “Out where?”

“Just around here. I’m getting sick of lying down and I need to...you know...bathroom”

“I guess you do need to... Ok. Sure. But just around the shed”

“Can you stay for a bit?”

“Sure”

“Can you...maybe...help me in the chair? My leg is not...” Patrick hates that he has to ask for help. He knows that he needs to move so his muscles can start working again but the wound is still fresh and his leg can’t handle his weight yet. It’s a good thing Jonny brought him sweatpants as well because it would be really awkward if he was still in the hospital robe even if dressing himself had been proved a difficult task.

Bryan brings the chair towards Patrick and helps him sit. It takes a lot of effort from Patrick’s part and by the end he feels totally embarrassed “Thanks”

“No problem. Shall we?” he asks pointing at the door.

Patrick nods and Bryan turns to reach the handles to take him there. “Hey, I can do it myself” he protests.

“Your hand’s in a cast and the ground is bumpy. I don’t mind”

Patrick sighs in defeat but his foul mood improves as soon as they step outside and he’s hit by daylight and fresh air. “Why are you helping us?” he can’t help but question.

He can’t see Bryan since he’s behind him but he’s pretty sure his whole body tenses. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer. I can be pretty nosy, ignore me”

That’s what Bryan does anyway. They do a few circles around the shed, they find a corner where Patrick can use to pee which proves to be both challenging and embarrassing and end up by the front door again. “So...” Patrick starts because he hates the awkward silence “emm...thank you”

Bryan shrugs. “You don’t talk much in general or you just don’t like me?”

Bryan shrugs again and it’s starting to get on Patrick’s nerves “Ok, then. Lovely talk”

Bryan huffs again “When do you think you’d be ready to leave?” he asks and Patrick knows it’s not a conversation starter.

“Want to get rid of me already? And here I was, thinking we begun to bond!” he says slyly.

“This is not a joke. We need to prepare a few things if you want to go back. Cap and I don’t have the army resources and we’re out of the loop on what their missions are. We need to be very careful or we’ll all end up in prison...or worse.”

Patrick swallows hard. They’re all risking their neck here, he gets it. He’s dying to ask why Bryan is not in the army anymore but he won’t get an answer and he’ll probably upset the guy more “Jonny mentioned his team a couple of times. Can’t any of the other guys fill you in?

 Apparently Patrick is asking all the wrong questions today “No” comes the sharp reply “There’s no way to make contact now and even if there was I don’t want them involved”

“Maybe Jonny...”

“I said no! If you drag them into this I’m out!” Patrick knows it’s not an empty threat. He doesn’t know what this guy’s deal is but Patrick starts to get really uncomfortable.

“Ok, sorry. I’ll tell Jonny. No one else involved, got it.”

“Good. Let’s go inside. I need to get going”

“Sure” Patrick says more chirpy than necessary. He hates being alone but Bryan creeps him out a bit.

They go inside and Bryan helps him out of the chair and into the bed. He gets the chair out of the way so Patrick can have more room and he leaves the water bottles he brought closer to Patrick’s reach. “Don’t forget your painkillers, Cap’s orders and there’s some bars in there as well for a snack. They’ll tie you over till tonight”

Bryan’s mood swing will drive Patrick insane, he’s sure of it. “Is Jonny gonna take long?” he knows he probably sound like a whiny kid but yesterday was hell in more ways than one.

Something in his expression makes Bryan look almost soft “Nightfall. He needs to be careful. Why? Do you need anything? I can stay a bit more.”

“It’s just... you know...bathroom...I had to... in the bottle last night and...I don’t know. I’m alone here and I don’t need anything but... what if I do, later. What if something happens? I don’t have a way to reach Jonny” now that he says it out loud he realizes it’s the first time he thought about it. He doesn’t know why it hadn’t crossed his mind before, being alone in a place in the middle of nowhere with no means to reach anyone.

Bryan freezes and starts cursing “Fuck, fuck, fuck! You’re right. I knew we’ve missed something! Why didn’t you say anything sooner? Something would have happened to you and you’d have no help. It’d be too late... When we’d come...it’d have been too late”

Bryan is in panic mode and Patrick feels like shit “hey, hey it’s ok. I’m fine. Nothing happened, ok. You told me the first night no one is going to find me here and they haven’t, yeah? Calm down, it’s fine. I’m just being paranoid because I’m tired. I’ll get some sleep and then Jonny will come...”

“No, no you’re right. You can’t stay here alone. What was I thinking! Fuck!”

Bryan’s pacing up and down makes Patrick already fragile stomach twist “It’s fine.”

“You’re coming with me” Bryan says and starts picking Patrick’s stuff up.

“No. I’ll wait for Jonny, it’s ok”

Bryan fixes a hard stare “You’re coming and that’s final” he tosses the backpack Jonny had left in his direction “Put your things in. I’m going to put the wheelchair in the trunk and then I’ll come get you. I’ll carry you there and you’re not gonna object, are we clear?”

Patrick nods and starts doing what Bryan wants. He’s going to kill Jonny for leaving him with the basket case!

Bryan must be working with the force of lighting speed because before Patrick realises it he’s being carried away and into the car like some damsel in distress and could Patrick’s pride hit any lower levels? He’s not crazy to complain though. Bryan doesn’t speak much on the way, practically at all except to bark commands like ‘stay down’ or ‘hold on’.

It must take them a while because Patrick finds himself dosing off. He’s jerked away by Bryan’s cursing. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Stay down and don’t speak” he barks.

They’re still in the car but they’ve stopped. Patrick can’t see where they are but his heart beats so hard on his chest he thinks it might pop out. Is this it? Have they gotten caught? Damn it, if he hadn’t opened his mouth he could have been back at the shed waiting for Jonny.

“What are you doing here?” he hears Bryan ask.

“I was just leaving.” a voice answers, it’s low and hoarse and really pleasing to the ear. “Brent needed a ride. We’re on leave” the explanation sounds a bit hesitant to Patrick. At least they hadn’t gotten caught so that’s a relief even if Patrick has no idea what’s going on.

“Fuck! Brent’s inside?”

“Yes” the voice replies and it’s curious and puzzled.

“Shit! Fuck!”

“Bryan... are you alright?” concern; Patrick hadn’t paid much attention before to how many emotions you can identify in a tone of voice.

“I’m fine!” Bryan says a bit harshly and Patrick really doesn’t get this guy “I...I need to run an errand. Bye” he says and Patrick can hear the key turning in the ignition and the car starting.

Well, that was awkward...and rude, definitely and Bryan had the nerve criticising his manners.

“I knew it! Canadian politeness my ass!” he can’t help but mutter.

“Shut up! Fuck! I need to get you to Jon’s right now. Fuck!”

“Ok” Patrick says but he’s not sure he can hide the glee in his tone now that he’s aware of the things you can identify there.

“It’s far from ok. It’s still daylight. They could be tailing him. There’s no back door to Jon’s building. Fuck!”

After about the hundredth fuck Patrick starts to fidget and can feel sweat starting to trickle down his neck. He doesn’t speak because he doesn’t really know what to say but even if he did he’s pretty sure fear has tied up his tongue in a million knots.

“Maybe...maybe you should just turn me in” he whispers in a moment of utter stupidity. He’s scared to death but he can’t have Bryan’s and Jonny’s demise in his conscience as well. If anyone is going down he prefers to be him.

He can feel the swerve before he crashes in the front seats and fuck him if it doesn’t hurt. “Hey, it’s ok. We’ll figure it out” Bryan’s soft, comforting tone takes him by surprise.

“Maybe it’ll be better” he says weakly

“No...no, it won’t be. Do you have any idea what will happen if you do? We’re in war and don’t let the stereotype fool you, we’re not that polite- especially not now. Things are getting rough...”

Patrick shivers “But Jonny...he can get in trouble. I don’t want...I can’t do that to him. Or you. You just wanted to help, it’s not fair.”

“Jon knows the risks and he’s willing to take them, it’s not your choice to make. I know, too so don’t concern yourself with us, ok? But...it’s your life so if you want...if you really want to turn yourself in...he said you might but I thought...I’ll take you if you want. Jon said whatever you decide so it’s your call.”

Patrick loathes this...same shit, different day; always the same dilemma over and over again. He’s exhausted and tired of being afraid, tired of having to make up his mind. Fuck the war, fuck the choices, fuck this, fuck everything and fuck his life. He never signed up for this. He doesn’t want it. Every way he goes someone gets hurt and someone is left behind.

Patrick’s shoulders can’t bear the burden.

 

ƥƙ

 

 

 

 


	11. Day 2 pt.II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm doing good as far as the updates are concerned, right? This is a slightly longer chapter because I needed to wrap up a few things. I hope I'm not boring or tiring you. I feel like that sometimes.  
> I hope I've covered a lot of things in this chapter. I still owe the story behind MS & Patrick. It'll probably be addressed next. Anything else you feel like I've missed please tell me. If anything feels like it's dragging please tell me that as well.

**Day 2 pt.II**

Jonny answers the phone puzzled and mortified at the same time. Bryan barely ever called him, the last thing they needed were documented interactions between them.

“Hey, Bryan. What’s up?” he asks

“Hey, Jonny. How’ve you been dude?” that whole sentence sounds so wrong in his ears that Jonny knows there must be a hidden purpose behind it.

“Emm...ok I guess. You?” he plays along because he has no other option.

“Good, you know... been busy for a while. I didn’t have much to do today so I thought I’d call, see if you’re free. I was thinking lunch- _takeout_ , craving that veggie soup you’ve been blabbing about.”

The emphasis on the takeout didn’t go amiss; this was definitely some Pat-related code. Good thing Jonny loved puzzles and he was rather good at it.

“Sounds great but I was on my way to the new place, need to do some work in the garden. I know you can’t see it passing by but the thing is a mess. The garage door is a wreck as well” he tries to sound browned off by the situation while conveying the veiled message to him. _Privacy_.

“You pay for lunch I can lend a hand” thank God Bryan is sharp!

“I’ll even throw in a couple of beers”

“Deal! Say, half hour?”

“I’ll be there in fifteen to twenty myself; let me give you the address” Jonny hastily recites the information and barely breathes a goodbye. 

He doesn’t know if he needs to take anything with him but he gets a few water bottles and the pain killers he bought for Pat just in case. It’s a good thing he always carries a first aid kit in his car as well, since he has no idea what the situation is exactly.

He grabs both his car and the house keys and rushes out. He gets to his car and drives off in record time; the only reason he tries to stay true to the speed limit is because even though they are at war they try to pretend that it doesn’t affect their daily life so the traffic police is still on patrol. It’s such a ridiculous notion. Nothing is plain and ordinary anymore.

He’s seen the blood and has heard the anguished cries, even if someone is not on the front there’s no way they can delude themselves in believing nothing has changed. Probably every house has someone serving. Jonny wishes he didn’t understand people’s need to keep up appearances but isn’t what he and so many others had done in order to play hockey undisturbed? He hates that they fight for things that don’t matter and leave the essentials on the sidelines. He also hates when he goes all philosophical in his head but it takes his mind off fear. 

He reaches the house and he doesn’t even get the chance to get out of his car when uniformed men bust in. He’s being pulled out with force and he hears commands of ‘search’ and something else he can’t make out over the blood that’s pumping in his eardrum. Jonny’s terrified. Since the whole thing started, it’s the first time he feels the blood drained from his face and he can’t seem to be able to stand on his own two feet.

“What’s...what’s going on?” he goes for an angry shout but all it comes out is a weak whimper.

“Where is he, Toews?” someone growls in his ear

“I- I don’t know” it’s not logical to play dumb, they all know who they’re referring to.

“Is this where you’re hiding him? Is this where you come at night? You think you had us fooled?”

A wave of relief runs through his whole body “This is where I come, yes” he says because at least past his midnight excursions they have no clue about his destination. “Is it against the law to tend to someone’s house?”

“Don’t give me lip boy or you’ll be in cuffs sooner than you’d expect.”

Jonny stays quiet. He needs to get this done with before Bryan arrives. He still has no clue what the urgency is but it has to do with Patrick and Jonny doesn’t need more complications.

The men bust the house doors open and probably make a mess of his place according to the havoc that can be heard. They are mere possessions that aren’t even his in the sense that matters so he can’t be bothered. He can’t help the feel of violation that rises inside him though. That’s his property and your house, even if it’s not your home, should be a safe haven no one can enter without invitation.

“All clear, Sergeant. No trace anywhere”

“Search the car” comes the command as Jonny is about to gloat.

They search his car and the trunk; it takes five seconds, not long but long enough for Bryan’s car to park in the driveway. Jonny can feel the grip of fear tighten in his chest.

He can’t really see what’s going on because they still hold him face down but he can hear Bryan’s angry protests. He’s spewing accusations and threats and something about basic human rights and he thinks if anyone can get away with it it’s Bryan. The man can be pretty intimidating just by looking at you.

His protests must have fallen on deaf ears because Jonny can hear doors slamming and someone yelling for Bryan to be cuffed.

_This is it_ Jonny thinks. _We’re all going down_.

Ĵƫ

 

Patrick doesn’t need to actually see the uniforms or the guns they carry to get scared. The thud that echoes from their steps is enough to make him shake and shiver. Surrendering or getting caught will result in the same thing anyway. The radio host was giving out instructions on how to survive an air attack. They’re fairly certain that given the course this war is taking and the fact that Winnipeg has an army base dropping bombs is long overdue.

Patrick feels sick in his stomach, it’s revolting and terrifying and the fact that he’s an unwilling participant makes his skin crawl. He’s not ready to die; he’s barely even lived yet. Sure, he has accomplished more than the average person his age has but he has so many dreams that haven’t yet come true. It’s much more that he craves than another Stanley Cup or a Gold Medal he hasn’t yet earned. At this time, he realises that hockey is not who he is but what he does. He loves the game, he breathes and lives it but the thing that matters most, the thing he probably won’t get to have is lazy mornings in Jonny’s arms, a kid bouncing on their bed, first days of school and birthday parties; family Christmas dinner where they struggle to keep both Kane and Toews traditions combining them with the new ones Pat and Jonny will make that would be explicitly theirs, silly fights about vacationing spots and who’s the favourite dad; friends that he’ll never see again and relationships that he’ll never mange to patch up; his parents’ face that would crumble in tears and pain than light up in pride and happiness.

Mostly, the fact that while falling Patrick will take more people with him going down; people that did nothing wrong other than love him or cared enough for someone else that did. Patrick has been on one mission and he’s proud to say he has no blood in his hand. That’s about to stop. He wonders if that’s how Jonny felt when he wrote ‘I’m a killer, Pat’. He wonders if he’ll hate him the same way he thought Patrick would if he knew. He tries to remember what the pastor used to say when he talked about God when his mother made him go to church. He used to daydream about hockey to pay close attention but he’s pretty sure he remembers words like just and loving, forgiving as well. Maybe if he had something to bargain with, maybe if he had something to offer He’d spared them all.

Patrick has nothing left.

 

ƥƙ

 

Jonny goes through another round of pointless search, at his condo this time, and he wishes he could do more than clench his jaw and squint his eyes at them. He feels he has every right but yelling till he turns red in the face did no good to Bryan and it almost land them in a cell with handcuffs. He takes the exact opposite route and his threats are voiced coolly and politely yet his words are belted with venom.

“This is the second time your men have invaded every property I own. You damaged valuables, you upset my mother, you involved my friends and violated my basic human rights. We may be at war but we’re still a civilized society. I think my lawyer needs to have a talk with you” he tries to sound as authoritarian as he can and use fancy words he learned at his one year of college “This isn’t just persecution; it’s individual targeting. I understand how this situation must look but do you really think I would have conspired to bring Patrick here only to have him almost blown up by a bomb I set with my own hands? I accepted the offer to serve my country, I took the rank you gave me and led my team successfully into battle, yet you stripped my rank and put me and my whole team into scrutiny, we’re barely allowed to keep in touch. Mr Campbell here is only allowed to talk to me because he was medically discharged and cleared of all charges. I tried to do my duty and this is what I get in return?” he barely even breathes the whole speech through. He’s afraid if he does he’ll drop the facade and ruin everything. He’s not a hero goddamn, he’s not that strong. He’s scared shitless and he’s so worried about Patrick he’s sure he’s about to lose his mind.

“Treason is being taken seriously, Mr. Toews. You can understand our unwillingness to believe that something that unusual is actually a coincidence.”

“Patrick Kane is not public enemy number one, sir. He’s incapable of the things you accuse him of and so am I. He is my friend but most of all he’s a human being and you’ll be the ones responsible if any harm comes to him. I’m not a traitor, sir but I’m not cruel either. I’m also not so willing to cooperate any further. Do what you must and do it fast. I want you out of my property. My lawyer will make contact soon”

Bryan just stands in the corner guarded by two men as he’s considered dangerous and Jonny makes a mental note to find a way to make it up to him. He doesn’t really know how you thank someone for risking his life for you but he can see now why Brent has been so worried he had a death wish, even if it works to his advantage at this point. He just hopes he hasn’t just made matters worse for them.

The search is over pretty quickly. Jonny doesn’t expect and apology and he doesn’t get any but he lets out a sigh of relief when he sees them out of the door. He sits there, back against the door and eyes closed like he can keep them out for good by the sheer force of his will.

‘ _Where is Pat_?’ he mouths at Bryan because he’s scared they’re still behind the door.

“ _Safe_ ” Bryan mouths back and Jonny feels all his bones melt. He listens closely for any sound outside the door and waits a while before opening it to make sure they’re truly alone.

“What happened? Where is he?” he asks when it’s safe to speak.

“We left him there alone, Jon. He couldn’t reach us if anything happened”

“Shit, shit, fuck” he’s messing up everything, total and utter failure Jonathan Toews.

“Yeah, I had the same reaction. I got him out, took him to my place but Brent and Alec were there. They’re on leave” he answers the unasked question “I didn’t want the involved”

“No, yes you’re right but where is Pat?” he’s getting ready to snap, he doesn’t really care about the recap.

“He’s with Alec. He’s a stubborn asshole who doesn’t listen. He followed me from my house. We saw the officers outside your place and I had no other option. I couldn’t just not show up. Don’t worry, ok? They’re somewhere close they’ll come when it’s safe.”

“Yeah” he says but it’s more like a fill-in the silence than a conviction. He can’t believe he thought he could pull it off. He’s endangering Patrick and even more people around him who don’t deserve this burden.

“Hey, you can trust him. He’s an asshole but he’ll take care of him, I promise”

Jonny gives a half-hearted laugh “I don’t know why you hate him so much. Alec is a great kid.”

“I don’t-“

Jonny raises his brow and he’s about to call bullshit

“Ok, whatever, it’s complicated, ok? Just, don’t ask”

“It’s fine, you don’t owe me an explanation but I do owe you. I don’t know how I can ever repay you”

“You don’t have to”

“I do. I want to”

“Just make sure you both survive this and just be happy”

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a romantic, Campbell. No offense”

Bryan chuckles “None taken. I used to be, guess it didn’t die with him”

“Hunter”

Bryan flinches “Yeah”

“I figured. Brent never said but we kind of put the pieces together”

“We?”

Jonny winces “Alec and I. We weren’t gossiping or anything ok? Just don’t kill the kid, he’s been through too much already.”

Bryan seems to consider the request “We were engaged” he mutters “Been together since high school, Brent was more of our baby than his brother. Got hit by a drunk driver, died in my arms before the ambulance even arrived”

Jonny can feel the strain, the effort that Bryan makes to choke every word “It’s been four years and when I saw you and-“

Jonny sees it clearly, the way he held a bleeding Patrick in his arms, the tears burn like they’re still on his face, the pain stabs him still. No wonder Bryan lost it that night.

He feels the urge to hug Bryan, tough scary Bryan who intimidated him, arrogant angry Bryan who was still bleeding inside. Why does the world have to be so unfair?

He doesn’t get a chance to do more than stand because there’s a knock at the door and Jonny rushes there. He only hesitates a moment. He looks at Bryan who has recomposed himself and nods.

Jonny cracks the door open just enough to be able to see. Alec holds a rough-looking Patrick and Jonny practically dives at him. He might shove Alec a little in the process. He doesn’t care. All he cares about is that Patrick is here.

He doesn’t know if Alec got in, if the door is still open, all he knows is that Patrick is in his arms, he’s alive and safe. Patrick clings to him just as hard but his hands have no strength left. Jonny does something he had never done before in front of an audience. He cries.

Ĵƫ

 

Patrick wakes up in a comfortable bed, the fluffy pillow cradles his head and the fleece blanket is so soft to the touch. He’s sore all over, it hurts everywhere and he feels weak and hungry. He can feel a set of eyes watching him, shielding him, keeping him safe.

He blinks a few times to will his eyes to open “Hey” he says to Jonny who sits in a chair by the bed.

“Hey” Jonny replies with a dumb, fond smile. Patrick had missed it.

“How long was I out?”

“Couple of hours, you were pretty beat”

“The others?”

“Gone”

“Then what are you doing all the way over there?”

“Didn’t want to bother you. You need rest, Pat”

“Yeah, well, you look like shit. Did you get any sleep?”

Jonny shakes his head “I was watching out for you”

“You’re my guard dog now?” Patrick tries to be funny and fails

“I’ll be anything you need” Jonny says in a rare moment of honesty and flushes bright red. He can’t believe the words left his mouth.

Patrick doesn’t make fun of him, he gives him a sweet smile in return and Jonny figures it was worth the embarrassment.

“Hungry? I have soup and crackers. I don’t know what you’re allowed to eat. I need to find Cara and ask. Also, pills. You must need some of that. And a bath...you sting”

“Oh, Jonny you say the sweetest things” Patrick flatters his eyelashes and a dimple pops out.

Jonny will welcome all the teasing if it means he can see him smiling more. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it. I’ve done enough for a life time”

Patrick pouts, it works like a charm every time and this one is no different.

“Shut up” Jonny’s words have no bite. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been shot and dragged half around the state” Patrick deadpans

Jonny winces and guilt covers not just his face but his whole body posture. He’s on Patrick’s right side so the hand that stretches is the one with the cast. Patrick places it as carefully as he can but the weight still drags it down with more force than he intended.

“It’s not your fault” Patrick means it, there’s no underline blame.

Jonny takes a deep breath, he knows it’s not the right time but when is it appropriate to inform the person you love that indeed it is your fault, it is the shrapnel of your bomb that landed him here, it’s your carelessness and selfishness that got him where he is “Yes it is” he says and part of him prays that Patrick doesn’t ask. He’s done with half-truths though “I did this Pat”

“No, you didn’t. Shut the fuck up” Patrick’s voice is harsh and Jonny is prepared to take the fall.

Jonny wants to squeeze his hand but he doesn’t know if he’s allowed “The bomb...I...I put it there Pat”

He hears Patrick’s hitched breath, he’s a coward and can’t lift his eyes to see his face “Did it have my name on it?” Pat asks and Jonny is startled by the question and the lack of accusation in his tone “Did you specifically plan it to kill me?”

“No” Jonny shouts horrified

“Then shut the fuck up! I’m injured and I hurt all over and I’m angry and scared and hungry and I don’t need your guilt ok? Stop being a fucking martyr for two seconds”

“I’m sorry” he says and it’s an apology for everything including his inability to be what Patrick needs right now.

“I don’t want you to be sorry, you asshole. I need you to be Jonny!”

Jonny doesn’t know what that means “Well, I am...sorry that is...and... and you have to deal with it” he tries because that’s what he would have done back home. Funny how he’s in his condo, in his home town, battling against the Americans but he still considers Chicago home, even though he’s not welcome there anymore.

“Well, that’s a start. We’ll need to improve your attitude. Now get your fat ass off the chair and bring me something to eat”

“My ass is not fat!” he protests but gets up nonetheless. He catches Patrick ogling him and he can’t help the smirk “You love my ass” he says on a whim

Patrick doesn’t answer “Feed me!” he demands instead and Jonny goes to do just that.

 

ƾ

 

Patrick whines, actually whines and if he could stomp his feet he would. He’s not being irrational he just wants, no- needs just a bit more soup, a spoon or two, he’s so hungry.

“No. You’re gonna make yourself sick. Stop clinking your spoon, there’s no more left”

“You’re mean! I’m starving!”

“No, Pat. Your stomach can’t handle it. You’ll get more later”

“It’s not fair” Pat pouts again and he hates that it doesn’t actually work this time. At least not the way he hoped because Jonny’s face softens and he gets closer and sighs.

He runs his fingers through Pat’s forehead, pushing back the hair that fell there “I know, ok? but it’s better than throwing up. Just take your pills and I’ll ask Cara if I can give you anything else tomorrow, yeah?”

Patrick pushes his hand away but not before he revels in the feel of his touch “Fuck off! ‘M not a baby, don’t coddle me” it’s just a facade though; he always loved to be babied when sick or hurt, loves it in Jonny even more, how he pampers him and cares.

“Sure, ok, no coddling, got it” he says but Patrick knows he won’t be able to do it, he also knows that Jonny knows he doesn’t mean it. “How about that bath?”

Patrick needs to get cleaned but he’s not sure it’s safe. He feels so full he thinks he might barf but he’s not ready to admit that to Jonny. “Later. I don’t think I can stand for too long”

“You’ll do no standing don’t worry. Got a big tub, got a Jacuzzi- two in one. It’ll help with your leg. Or I can draw you a bubble bath” he pauses “or maybe not... sorry, I forgot the rule- no coddling”

Patrick has the urge to punch him in the face; it’s good to be back to normal “Asshole”

“So, what do you say?”

“Bubble bath...later. Maybe tomorrow we’ll do the Jacuzzi” it feels so good to make plans like that. They can create some sort of false normalcy.

“Sure. What do you want to do until then?”

Patrick shrugs “Don’t know.”

“Do you want to talk? We don’t have to now but we need to at some point”

Patrick knows that Jonny’s right but he has no strength for that, not yet “Later?”

“Ok”

“Can you get your fat ass closer now?” he tries to make it sound as a demand but it turns out more of a plea

“You seem overly invested in my ass” Jonny teases as he walks around the bed to get to the other side

“Meh...it’s ok I suppose” he tries to move closer to Jonny

Jonny raises his brow and Patrick hates it when he does that “Just ok?”

“Fine...whatever. You have a glorious ass, I want to eat that for dinner...happy?” his words are snappy but Jonny chokes on air nonetheless.

“Shit...You can’t just say stuff like that, Pat. Christ!” Jonny’s flashed and Patrick finds it hilarious.

“Of course I can. I just did”

“Stop it”

“Awww... Is Jonny getting awkward?”

“Shut up”

“You should be proud Jonny. I’ve been thinking about it a lot” he wants to burrow his head in Jonny’s shoulder but he wants to watch Jonny squirm even more.

“Thinking of...doing that... to me?” Patrick’s not sure what’s funnier, the shock or the blush that covers half of Jonny’s neck.

“Ever had anyone do that to you, Jonny?” he already knows the answer but he just likes to make him uncomfortable. Jonny was never one of those guys who bragged about their sexual experienced but he was never a prude either. He was respectful enough to not engage on those conversations and at first it irritated Patrick but through the years he understood the importance of treating others like human beings and not pieces of meat. Patrick had his fair share of shitty behaviour, he’s aware.

Jonny’s head hangs low while he shakes it “Shut up!” he repeats.

“It’s very important in a healthy relationship to know what the other person likes, Jonathan” Patrick mocks.

“Shut the fuck up. I’m not having this conversation now.”

“Later?” Patrick teases him and it feels great.

Jonny sighs “Yeah, Pat, later. Don’t start something you can’t even finish” the last sentence is spoken with much more confidence and Patrick knows that he’s looking forward to the moment. He should have known you don’t just spring things like that to Jonny out of the blue. He has a feeling that when Jonny decides it’s time for that talk Patrick would probably be the one blushing in the end.

“When you’re right, you’re right” he concedes. He’s not even sure he can get it up at this point let alone engage in all the things he’d be fantasizing about.

“How about bath and sleep instead, Casanova?”

“You wish you had my game! You’re so jealous Jonny!”

“Patrick, you have no game, buddy”

“Yet I got you” Patrick gloats. He has game thank you very much but even if Jonny is right and he indeed has none he still got Jonathan Toews to fall in love with him.

“Come on, bath” Jonny says and goes around again helping Patrick up.

“I do have you Jonny, don’t I?” he asks as he rests his weight on Jonny. He needs to know, he needs more than care-giver Jonny, more than the guiltily obligatory help. He needs to know that that night in the cabin he didn’t shut that door.

“Of course you do, Pat” Jonny says it like it’s a given and Patrick would have admired the confidence Jonny possesses if he didn’t immediately followed it but a hesitant “Do I?”

They are the biggest dumbasses that were ever put on planet earth “Always” Patrick says, because it’s true and Jonny has a right to know. He can feel Jonny’s grin against his hair and it’s the best feeling he had in a while. He wants Jonny happy, most importantly he wants to be the one to do it.

“Bathe me, Jonny” he commands and Jonny does.

He helps him strip, he wraps his cast with a plastic bag, ties it and seals it with tape because Jonny is anal like that and he picks him up bridal-style to get him in the tub. He doesn’t quite like it but he doesn’t protest either. The warm water is like salve to his sore muscles and the bubbles tickle his nose. Jonny’s gentle hands massage his scalp and the comfortable silence relaxes him. In this moment there is no war, no fear, and no worry. It’s him and Jonny...it’s bliss.

He can feel the water pressure from the shower head and Jonny rinsing his hair; he feels content and cared for and he wishes except for clean he was also strong enough to take care of Jonny in return. The situation has taken a toll on him as well and as much as he tries to hide it Patrick can see the signs. He wants to be for Jonny what Jonny is for him. Ok maybe somewhere deep inside he wants to best Jonny, show him he can be just as good or maybe even better. He wants to win at loving Jonny. He doesn’t think that’s selfish, quite the opposite in fact. It startles him that he can have such silly thoughts even now. Something about being with Jonny makes him more confident that he can actually succeed.

“Come on, sleepyhead you’ll drown in the tub with the rate you’re going” Jonny nudges him and Patrick grunts. Jonny’s tub is huge and comfortable, the water is still lukewarm and his fingers although a bit prune-y are still not done playing with the bubbles.

“Don’t wanna move” he whimpers

“Tough luck! Up you go!”

“Nope” he emphasizes the ‘p’ and gives zero fucks at how petulant that is.

“Whatever! Drown in here for all I care, I’m going to bed” it’s an empty threat but no one can fault him for trying.

“Joooonnyyyy”

“What?”

“Don’t leave me” it’s a low blow, he’s playing dirty and he knows it.

“Not going anywhere, Pat” Jonny says and kneels beside him, letting the towel he holds at the end of the tub.

“Because you love me” it’s not a question, it’s conviction, it’s knowledge and the evidence is clear to him now in everything Jonny says and does even if he had been blind and deaf for so long.

   “Yes” he loves how Jonny indulges him

“Because I love you, too” this is more an inquiry than a statement. He thinks he knows what’s coming, it has been there since forever but he needs to hear it.

“I’d be here even if you didn’t” Jonny confirms his suspicion.

“I’d be too” he can’t form too many coherent sentences at this point but Jonny needs to know that Patrick doesn’t love him back, he loves him period. Even if Jonny wasn’t in love with him, Patrick would have been. He might continue to be oblivious for a long time but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t have felt it.

“I know” that’s certainty and Patrick is content “Can we both be in bed now?”

“Way to ruin the moment asshole”

Jonny chuckles “Come on, we need sleep. We can have as many moments as you want tomorrow”

“It doesn’t work like that Jonny. You can’t plan moments like you plan everything else, Cap-“ he almost calls him captain, actually captain serious to be exact but he leaves it at that.

“Are you saying that was the only one we’ll ever have?” bless Jonny for giving him a way out.

“Maybe. How should I know?”

“Then stop bitching. You just want to stall” he accuses

Patrick hadn’t thought of it but maybe Jonny’s right, the asshole usually is.

“Ok, but you do all the work”

Jonny laughs “Lazy ass”

“Oh, do you have a thing for my ass as well Jonny?”

“I have a huge thing for your ass in my pants. Wanna see?”

Patrick doesn’t think his eyes can widen any more. He bursts into laughter “OMG that was so bad”

“Fuck off”

Patrick struggles to find a way to get out of the tub on his own, he likes the potential this conversation has and if he can make it then maybe Jonny can be persuaded to fool around with him. He fails miserably though and he’s more put out by the fact that it’s highly unlikely he’d get any anytime soon than by needing Jonny to assist him.

Jonny’s patient and careful as he helps him out and unwraps his hand. He sits him on the edge and dries him off with the towel and carries him out. It’s a good thing his bathroom is adjoined to the bedroom because even though Patrick has lost a few pounds so did Jonny and it’s a bit of a struggle to get him to bed.

Jonny searches his drawers and digs out a pair of boxers and sweatpants and Patrick feels just as vulnerable as he did in the hospital when Jonny helps him get dressed. Mostly, he feels a shiver run along his spine when Jonny’s thumb caresses his hipbone as he tugs the boxer briefs in place. They had shaved him down there for the surgery and everything feels too much, too sensitive. His breath hitches and it’s ridiculous how much one simple touch affects him. He bites his lower lip and catches Jonny’s gaze the minute it darkens.

It takes every last ounce of willpower he possesses not to yank Jonny down and devour his mouth. It doesn’t stop him from licking his lips and he feels just how much Jonny is affected as well; the evidence pokes him in the hip.

Their eyes lock and the must mirror the same longing and regret.

“Soon?” Patrick exhales

“Soon” Jonny breathes in.

ƾ


	12. Day 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> embarrassing fluff and poorly written handjob, anyone?

**Day 3**

Patrick feels a hand shaking him gently, it’s a common occurrence as of late never be able to wake up on his own time; he hates it.

“Hey, Patrick, wake up” Jonny’s voice calls and it’s not like it’s rough or commanding but it lacks the softness of the last few days.

Patrick yawns and tries to stretch but he stops mid-groan, another common occurrence as of late; he hates this as well.

“Hey, wake up, Cara is here” Jonny says and at least now it explains why he wasn’t awakened by a tender caress. He files ‘lack of PDA’ on the list of things they need to discuss.

Cara is in her nursing scrubs, some shade of dark blue he can’t indentify and she’s looking really tired. Patrick guesses she hasn’t been home yet “Hi” he greets.

“Hi, how are you feeling?” direct and to the point without being impolite, Patrick is not sure if it’s a nurse thing or a Canadian one.

“Better but not great.”

“Understandable. Jon is concerned about your internal stitches, may I take a look?”

Patrick wants to protest because he already explained to Jonny that he would have felt it if he had busted a stitch and there was internal bleeding but since Jonny refused to lie down with him last night and spent the whole night in the chair it’s better to clear the air once and for all. So he nods instead and lowers the sheet.

Jonny’s sweatpants hang low on his hips, loose enough on purpose per Jonny’s orders. As endearing as this attentiveness was in the beginning it seems more like overreaction now and it’s driving Patrick insane.

Cara examines the external wound, closed yet still healing and gently presses around it. “Can you tell him I’m fine now so he can stop freaking out?” it’s more of a statement than a question and it earns him a glare from Jonny and a laugh from Cara.

“Does it hurt when I press?” she asks as she does so once again.

“Not really. I feel like a pull when I try to stretch or turn on my side and it hurts a bit if I make any sudden movements-“

“He just can’t stand still” Jonny interjects.

Patrick returns the previously received glare “It’s absolutely normal and a good sign, it means you’re healing. It’s just the stitches tightening your wound together. It doesn’t feel swollen or tender. I think you’re doing really well. I can’t see your wrist but the cast protects you anyway”

“Can you cut it off? It’s heavy and I can’t do anything by myself” Patrick whines.

“Patrick” Jonny warns.

“Shut up, ok? You’re not the one who can’t even hold the spoon to eat and then you go all mad I spill it on your sheets. I can’t eat with my left alright? I want my hand back!”

Cara saves them both for saying something they’ll both regret yet again “May I see your thigh now?”

Patrick huffs irritated but turns to lower the sweatpants even more, he struggles a bit and Jonny is by his side in an instance trying to help. Patrick pushes his hand away immediately “I can do it myself” he all but shouts and he catches Jonny’s hurt as he jerks his hand away.

Cara fidgets uncomfortably “Does it hurt? The skin is a bit irritated, kind of red.”

“That’s because he keeps scratching it” Jonny answers instead, judgement pouring out of every single letter.

“Because it itches, asshole”

“That doesn’t mean you have to scratch it, _asshole_ ”

“Fuck off!”

“Fuck you!”

“Boys, can we calm down here?” Cara tries this time.

They both shut up but they squint at each other in clear annoyance “Have you tried to massage the muscles? You don’t want them to atrophy”

“I was going to-“ Jonny starts trying to say that he was going to have Patrick sit in the Jacuzzi to relax and get to it after but Patrick cuts him off once again.

“I can answer myself, you know. I still have my tongue” apparently there’s nothing that Jonny does right lately. He starts to wave him to go ahead but he retreats his hand at the last minute. The last thing he wants is Patrick to go off on him for not needing permission. 

“Not yet” Patrick says to Cara at last “I’ll do it later. I can do some stretches as well, right? Like I used to do after practice? Maybe some ice packs as well?”

Cara smiles at him “Yes, that would be good. Soak it in warm water first, to relax the muscles. Not much pressure though, and no walking” that was definitely an order, the first she ever gave him.

Patrick glares at Jonny like it’s his fault “Did he put you up to this?”

Jonny is ready to answer in what is probably an unkind way but Cara doesn’t give him the chance “Jon did mention you tried to go to the washroom by yourself, yes but this is my professional opinion. You haven’t walked in more than a week; you need to take it slow. I brought you a pair of crutches you can use if it doesn’t put too much strain in your abdomen. Come on, Patrick, this is not your first injury I bet. You need to be very careful. You’ve lost a lot of blood, you’re still weak, and healing takes time.”

Jonny nods along with her words, he’s not even aware he’s doing it but it irritates Patrick just a bit more “Fine!” he says but he means the exact opposite. “Go ahead, say it” he snarls at Jonny like he’s expecting the ‘I told you so’

A ping sounds from somewhere “Excuse me a moment” Jonny says and turns to leave.

“Yeah, go! It’s not like you’re any help anyway!” Patrick sneers and it’s kind of like the last drop for Jonny.

“Fuck you! I’ve been doing nothing but help! You just can’t stop being a whinny, ungrateful brat to see it!”

“Maybe if you stopped being an overbearing control freak I would have!”

“Maybe if you just used some common sense I wouldn’t have to!”

“Are you calling me stupid?”

“I’m calling you stubborn! This is not about me having my way or wanting to control you-“

Patrick snorts derisively and Jonny exhales tiredly “I know it’s hard-“

“You don’t know shit!”

“I’ve been there, Patrick, remember? I almost put my life at risk! You were the one who kicked my ass six ways to Sunday for being careless and stupid. This is about you not causing yourself any more harm!”

“I didn’t do this! This is not my fault!”

“No, it’s not. It’s mine” Jonny agrees and the admission causes the room to freeze. Jonny stiffens and Patrick stares wide-eyed because that was not what he implied, while Cara keeps looking at them shocked. “Excuse me” Jonny says again and this time he leaves.

Cara looks anywhere but at Patrick trying to understand what she had just witnessed, the whole scene was unfathomable. Patrick just buries his face in his palms and curses mentally. He’s tired and frustrated but the last thing he wanted was to place more guilt at Jonny.

Jonny returns with a tray and places it on the side table. Patrick can see the pill bottle, the bowl of cereal and the glass of orange juice and something that looks like a muffin. The ping makes sense now. Jonny had probably set a timer for Patrick’s medication. He feels like a jerk once again, another common occurrence as of late.

“Oh, good, breakfast” Cara says “You need to eat to get your strength, eh? Drink your orange juice as well. It helps after such a blood loss. I already told Jon- I mean... you can eat something more than soup now. You must be starving!” she tries her best to bring back some sort of normalcy because what she has experienced is probably the most weird thing she’s seen in her entire life.

Patrick masters a half-smile “Just- nothing spicy or fried yet. Give it a couple of days for your stomach to adjust”

Patrick nods as Cara stands up “I have to go” she says and turns to Jonny “You know how to reach me if you need anything, ok?”

“Thank you” both of them say at the same time

“Come on, I’ll walk you out” Jonny offers. He stops at the doorway “I’ll be in the living room...if you need...”

Patrick needs a lot of things; mostly he needs Jonny there. Their talk is long overdue and highly necessary. He just has to wait a few moments; they’ve scarred the poor girl enough for a lifetime.

If Jonny and Cara say anything Patrick doesn’t hear it. He hears the door close after a while and Jonny shuffling around the living room. He knows Jonny’s there licking his wounds and trying to give him space. That’s not what Patrick wants. He mostly just wants to go back to last night somewhere between his bath and where everything went wrong.

He wants an excuse to call Jonny back without his objections being labelled invalid but he knows he can’t have it both ways. The truth is, he needs help. He eyes the tray wishfully; he hates to admit that even though he’ll probably manage to eat the cereal on his own he kind of doesn’t want to try. Everything is hard work these days, the smallest things, and it’s the cause of his frustration and anger. At least the last time he had a wrist surgery his fingers weren’t included in the cast. This time they need to be confined up to the second knuckle and it makes all the difference.  

He contemplates for a moment not giving in, letting his stubbornness win over his wounded pride but frankly he’s just tired; tired of hurting and trying and fighting. He swallows hard and clears his throat “Jonny” he calls. He’s scared for a moment that Jonny won’t come but he soon enough hears Jonny’s footsteps.

Jonny leans on the doorframe and waits “Can you- can you help me eat?” there’s hesitation in his voice, mixed with embarrassment and some residual dander that is pointed more to the situation than Jonny. He doesn’t exactly plead but he doesn’t demand either.

Jonny sighs deeply and wearily but comes closer all the same. He sits at the edge on Patrick’s right and takes the bowl in hand. He stirs the cereal, which are now pretty soaked in milk and takes a spoonful he raises to Patrick’s mouth. Patrick can’t help the pink that tints his cheeks. It’s incommodious for a grown man to be reduced to infant status. In his mind the visual trifecta of bed-Jonny-food had been much sexier than this.

Jonny doesn’t talk to him at all and Patrick would have hated the silent treatment in any other moment but now he’s kind of grateful. He doesn’t meet his eyes either but he catches Jonny glancing at his mouth more than once. He figures he just makes sure Patrick has swallowed before giving him more but he can’t help darting his tongue out to lick across his lips just to test the theory.

Jonny seems unaffected but Patrick catches the way he just squeezes the spoon a little bit tighter. Not all is lost then. He can’t help but wonder how much he can push until Jonny reaches his breaking point. He doesn’t want to know the answer. His goal is not to push Jonny away.

Jonny puts the bowl down and hands him the napkin. Patrick wonders if maybe, had the fight not happened, he’d try to wipe his mouth. He’s glad he hadn’t tried. Patrick would have laughed in his face and that would have been disastrous!

“Thank you” he all but whispers. Jonny just nods at him. “I’m sorry” he adds, because he truly is.

Jonny gives one more long suffering sigh “I’m sorry too”

“What I said before...I didn’t mean-“ Patrick needs Jonny to know he doesn’t blame him.

“I know”

“I don’t blame you Jonny and I don’t want you blaming yourself either, ok?”

“Ok” Jonny says but Patrick knows he’s just humouring him.

“I’m not ungrateful” he adds

“I know. I’m sorry I said that”

“You’re a bit overbearing though” he confesses, his lips twitching in a start of a smile.

“Duly noted” Jonny states but still doesn’t look at him.

“I- God, Jonny...I hate this. We don’t do awkward, right? We’re not like that. You say shit and I talk back right at you but we don’t do this. We don’t hurt each other. This-“ he says motioning between them “I don’t know how to handle this”

There’s a pause there and Patrick doesn’t know what to make of it “I understand” Jonny says and goes to retreat.

Patrick grabs his wrist “God, you’re infuriating! I don’t mean us you moron! I’m trying to communicate with you, you shit. Can’t you meet me half way?”

“I want you to understand! This whole situation is fucked up!” he sees Jonny flinch “I mean the war and the injury and the on the run you dumb fuck! Stop with the gloom and doom man and pay attention! Do you think if I spoke French you’d be able to get me because it seems English is not your strong suit!”

“You’d be terrible at it” Jonny quips and the side of his mouth tilts upwards.

“That you understood, ha? Asshole! Look, now that you seem to get the language again...I love it that you care, ok and I’m grateful for everything-everything Jonny I mean it. I know I’m an ass sometimes but this...not being able to do anything drives me up the walls. I take it out on you and it’s wrong I know but...you’re all I have Jonny and I don’t want to drive you away.” He pauses to let Jonny absorb everything but thinks at his last comment again “And by that I didn’t mean you’re like a...that I want you because there’s no one else...that I-“

Jonny chuckles for the first time today “I got what you meant Pat, relax. And I’m sorry I overreact and take everything you say the wrong way. Sorry if I hover and am being annoying. I just... I almost lost you Pat, for good this time and I just...just that. That’s my only excuse. I promise I’ll be better ok? I’ll lay off. I can be overprotective I suppose”

Patrick snorts “And I can be a brat at times I suppose” he offers.

“No kidding!”

“Hey!”

“Ok, sorry. You’d do the same thing if you were in my shoes and you know it”

Patrick considers it for a second “I guess I’d try but you’d have shunt me at the get go. You never let anyone take care of you, you know”

It’s not actually an accusation or maybe it is but it’s a fact that Jonny pushes people away at his weakest, he doesn’t allow himself the luxury of being cared for.

“I guess we both suck” Jonny concludes and they smile at each other.

“I guess we do. Match made in heaven!” Patrick beams at him.

Jonny chuckles again and it’s both dorky and endearing at the same time. “Now open the damn bottle and give me my pills” Patrick fake-commands. “And pass me the orange juice. I can’t stretch that far”

“You’re high maintenance, anyone ever tell you that?”

“You do! All the time”

“Yet you never learn”

“You wouldn’t have me any other way” Patrick says on a limp but deep inside knows it’s true.

Jonny just snides and doesn’t dignify the comment with a response. Patrick grins anyway because he’s totally right.

ƾ

 

Patrick tries the crutches and finds that although he can’t navigate swiftly it doesn’t hurt much either. It takes a bit of effort and he’s not all that strong yet but it gives him a sense of freedom that makes him settle. It helps that Jonny watches closely but not close enough to suffocate him. He slips up a couple of times when he sees Patrick wavering but Patrick gets it now. He understands his need to be close, to shield and protect and honestly if anything can make him feel safe in this perilous situation that’s Jonny.

He sits on the couch while Jonny cooks lunch and makes fun of him for his well-stocked pantry. He figures that he stocked it before the war even started just to be prepared because it mostly has food items that have a long expiration date but there are a couple of treats there as well. Jonny goes into defensive mode when he asks like he’s expecting to be mocked but Patrick actually admires preparedness. He catches a glimpse of a cereal box that’s his favourite but knows Jonny hates the taste. It’s stuck somewhere between pasta and sauce and a pile of canned food and he realises as corny as it sounds that Jonny weirdly found some comfort in a stupid card box. It makes him regret that much more all the accusations he spat of Jonny not caring.

He never got to see the sentimental side of Jonny but clearly he has one and Patrick tries to picture how their life could have been back in Chicago when they still had hockey and not much care in the world. He wonders if they would spend their time off much like that, in comfortable domesticity where Jonny cooked and they teased each other then cuddle on the couch fighting for the remote and which movie to watch. It sounds so familiar and he can’t help but wonder if Jonny silently thought all these things when they were hanging out, if he was wishing he could just slip his arm around Patrick and hold him close.

He hates to think just how painful it must have been for him, to want and not be able to get, that longing that must have eaten him inside. The weirdest thing of all is that he kind of realises they had already been in all the things that count, besides sex obviously, in a relationship for years. There’s nothing in Jonny’s behaviour that it’s different now, not in Patrick’s either and it kind of clicks why the guys always made fun of them for being ‘married’.

Patrick doesn’t handle regret well. He had a few steps down that road and he knows you can’t take anything back so he doesn’t want to feel sad for the wasted opportunities. He wants to make the best of what they can get now because it’s not meant to last forever; not now. Patrick travels in the path of hope instead, to where they’ll be when this damn war is over and they’ll be free to make a life, built a home together. Not structure and stone, but this...this feeling of content that fills him just by being around each other doing mundane, everyday things.

He’s the one who coaxes Jonny closer to him when they sit on the couch. They don’t fight for the remote, they don’t touch the news or anything hockey related. They watch a sitcom that Jonny has on DVD and he stretches his uninjured hand in clear invitation. Jonny respects the boundaries he requested, takes it seriously and Patrick loves him for it but he needs the closeness and the contact. Jonny eyes him for a second and gives in. He’s still a bit skittish in fear of hurting Patrick but he finally ensconces himself under Patrick’s arm. Patrick’s awed by the gesture, terrified by the responsibility, the unvoiced trust and the courage that must have took for Jonny to let himself be that vulnerable. He timidly traces Jonny’s arm until he finds his palm and entwines their fingers. Jonny welcomes it, shifts a bit for better access and when Patrick squeezes lightly he hopes that Jonny can read the _thank you, I love you_ , _I got you_ that he tries to say with the gesture.

Jonny squeezes back. Patrick takes it to mean the feeling is mutual, an unspoken agreement that even with this new addition to their relationship, the romantic feelings, they’re still them and they still have each other’s back.

This new feeling Patrick likes...

_Contentment_

 

ƾ

Patrick can’t feel a bone in his body, it’s like they’ve melted away and he's just floating. He feels the warm pressure of water on his skin, he rests his head back and his mind is blank. He lets himself get lost in the sensation. All the tension and worry and hurt get washed away and Jonny’s pacing in the next room is a discreet comforting presence. This simple pleasure seems like such a luxury, things he took for granted and never thought he’d miss. He’d contemplate on it but he doesn’t want anything to spoil this moment.

He hears Jonny’s footsteps approaching, he feels his gaze wandering and stilling. He doesn’t open his eyes but he can sense it. He’s being watched and any other time it might have thought it creepy but now it feels more of a caress. If eyes could touch, Jonny’s would be smooth and tender. He doesn’t know how but he’s certain of it. He thinks that if Jonny let himself loose he’d probably turn into a giant teddy bear soft and snugly. He’d still have a sharp edge, a fierceness within and that contrasts is something Patrick would enjoy.

The whoosh and pressure stop and Patrick groans unhappily. Jonny laughs somewhere near him “Come on, let’s get you out” he says and he must have knelt beside him.

“Don’t want to”

“You can’t sleep in the tub, buddy”

“Why not? ‘S comfortable”

“It won’t be for long. Come on, out”

“Please” it comes out a whine, popping sound at the p and dragging the e for effect.

“We’ll do it again tomorrow, yeah? We need to massage your leg now, you heard what Cara said”

“Spoilsport”

“Tomorrow I promise. Don’t be difficult”

“Sorry”

“It’s ok. Come on. Sit up for me” Jonny grabs hold of him, hands strong but not forceful. Patrick lets himself be manhandled. He wouldn’t protest even if he could master it, which in his current state definitely can’t.

“Crutches or –“

Patrick doesn’t allow Jonny to give him an option “Carry me” he says and it’s a request.

Jonny chuckles “Come on, princess!” it’s affectionate and Patrick takes no offense.

Jonny fumbles with the towel to at least have him not dripping all over and stumblingly carries him to the room. He tries to lay him on the bed as gently as possible. He groans when he gets hit upside the head with the cast. He wishes the damn thing was off. It’s nothing but trouble.

Patrick stretches himself across it, hands and feet wide open. Jonny chokes on his spit, because Patrick still damp and stretched naked in his bed had been the star in many of his fantasies. He’s so pliant and relaxed it makes his dick twitches in his sweatpants. He wants to feel guilty for ogling Patrick at this state but the sight is so obscene Jonny can’t do anything other than lust.

In order to distract himself from thinking of Patrick’s glassy blue eyes and the pink that tints his lips he takes out the oil and sits by his side. He uncaps the bottle and drizzles some on Pat's thigh. The moment his hand makes contact, feeling the soft, warm flesh and strong muscles he doesn’t know why he thought this would be a distraction. Patrick seems unaware but the soft sigh he lets out tells Jonny that he’s not sleeping. It’s not like Jonny is doing anything sexual but it would have been borderline creepy if Pat wasn’t conscious.

He knits the tender flesh, rubbing his thumbs in circles, caressing every inch. Patrick lets soft puffs and blows and it gives Jonny goose bumps.  His hands travel downwards on Patrick’s knee and calf still toned and firm even though he knows he hadn’t worked out in a long time. He gets lost in the feeling, the way the pads of his fingers graze barely visible hair that’s why he gets surprised by Patrick’s raspy call of his name.

Jonny stills and looks up. Patrick watches him under hooded eyes, teeth biting at his lower lip. He must have been worrying it for a while because the previously pink flesh is now a deep red that screams for Jonny to _bite_.

Patrick’s hand finds his and Jonny lets him guide it. He thinks for a moment that he might have hurt him until Patrick places it somewhere between his legs and lets it settle on his hard dick.

“Please” it’s a breath nothing more, edged with want and need.

Jonny forgets how to breathe. He feels it up gently like he’s afraid, of what he doesn’t know exactly. He’s not inexperienced, far from it and even if he hadn’t done it to other guys, which he had, he sure knows from years of self-pleasure how to handle a dick but this is Patrick, this is years of fantasies and want and longing. The angle is all wrong though, since his torso and hips are facing on an opposite direction and his right hand makes his left elbow dig in the space between Patrick’s legs.

He must have pressed somewhere harder than he expected because the groan Patrick lets out it’s far from pleasurable.

“Sorry, sorry” he mumbles hurriedly.

He doesn’t know how to handle this and Patrick calls his name impatiently this time. Jonny shifts again and he catches himself in the last second before falling off the bed. It’s his turn to groan this time.

“Hold on a second” he says and gets up. He gets at the top of the bed and lies down nudging Patrick further away. It’s a good thing that Patrick is so loosened and lets him place him how he wants him. Jonny is not graceful at all at this point but he manages to sit upright, back on the headboard Patrick splayed across his chest.

Jonny lets his legs fall open and Patrick wiggles around to get comfortably between their V. The feel of Patrick’s ass near his dick causes him to inhale and keep the breath in. Patrick giggles and huffs a teasingly “Smooth!”

“Shut up!” Jonny replies and he hopes it doesn’t give away just how embarrassed he really feels. This is not how he pictured their first time.

Patrick doesn’t retaliate and Jonny can focus on the weight across his chest, all the right ways Patrick fits against him, how his shoulders are just wide enough to allow Jonny’s arm to hug his frame. Fearing he had killed the mood he starts up again, small touches, grazes and caresses, Patrick’s torso, his ribs, just a flick above his navel. Anything he can reach, he touches.

His hand still slick from the oil, the smell of lavender and sage, Patrick’s soft pants. Jonny closes his eyes and revels at the sensations. He wants to savour every little moment. His hand finally reaches Patrick’s dick and he can feel the satisfied exhale in his chest.

He starts slowly, just a touch to get acquainted. The skin is softer than he expected considering how hard Patrick’s cock is, how he can feel that prominent vein under his fingers.

“Jonny” Patrick says, irritation mixed with request. Jonny grips him tighter, his whole fist closes around the length. Patrick’s dick is thick a little above average perhaps. He starts a casual pumping motion, searching for any indication that might tell him it’s not how Patrick likes it. He finds none. He tugs a little harder a little faster. He’s so transfixed by the sight, how the head appears and disappears in his fist. He finds the wetness Patrick’s arousal leaves and smears it around with his thumb. He doesn’t need it because his oily palm gives enough lubrication but he loves the catch in Patrick’s breath so he does it again.

He doesn’t stop; he continues the same rhythm, firm and tight grasp, a flick and a twist now and again. He unglues his eyes to bow his head and watch Patrick’s face. His eyes are closed and his mouth half open, lips forming a narrow o shape in his pleasure.

Jonny did this. This marvellous sight in front of him is all because of Jonny. The knowledge alone makes his dick rock hard. He doesn’t get a chance to feast on it, because Patrick’s breath comes out more ragged, uneven and Jonny can feel him tense, muscles flexing.

“Yeah, that’s it” he says because he can’t help it. He’s been waiting to witness this for a long time, dreaming of how Patrick looks like when he comes. “Let go babe, I got you” he speeds up, presses his thumb on the underside of Patrick’s cockhead “Come on, Pat. Come!”

Patrick does with a moan, tensing up, hips rising as much as his injuries allow to chase Jonny’s hand and his orgasm. Hot, creamy seed covers Jonny’s fingers and splashes on Patrick’s belly. Jonny continues to stroke him through it until he softens and flinches.

Jonny need to come is unbelievable but when he weighs it Patrick warm and sated and safe in his arms is more important. He stretches his arm and fishes the wipes out the drawer and cleans them both. Patrick burrows further in his arms and Jonny tightens his hold.

Jonny’s lulled to sleep by the thump of Patrick’s heartbeat against his chest.

 

ƾ


	13. Day 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay but I'm currently suffering from an upper respiratory infection and my antibiotics don't always leave me awake enough to write.  
> I tried to look this over but since this whole thing is unbeta'd anyways it still probably has a few errors. Feel free to point out any major mistakes.  
> I can't promise you when the next update will be but I'll try my best to not have you wait long.
> 
> This chapter contains some Alec/Bryan because Zarah named them (Brylec) and demanded they become canon and I really don't want her whining in my inbox any longer!

**Day 4**

This very moment Patrick doesn’t care that his cast doesn’t let him get a good grip at the crutch, he doesn’t mind that to take five steps to get to the bathroom it takes a long time and much effort, he can’t even bother about the fact that he has to use the toilet sitting down and the mess he makes of himself instead of properly cleaning up.

He will be struggling with everyday things for a while, he won’t be able to do simple things on his own, hell, even climbing on the bed and sitting upright takes effort but this- this he doesn’t get to keep for long. He will soon have to give up sharing a bed with Jonny, taking comfort in his presence, watching the crinkle in his eyes disappear and his breath even.

He still wishes he could stroll in the kitchen and make breakfast, leave Jonny to catch up on the so much needed sleep but since he can’t he decides he’ll try to make the best of the remaining time because the clock is ticking and the days go by too fast.

He watches Jonny’s chest rise and fall in time with his breathing, the pillow lines on his cheek and the way his hair get tousled; he wants to commit in his memory every little detail to keep him company when his bed will be empty.

Jonny shift to his side, back to Patrick, dead to the world, lost in his sleep and Patrick smiles. He can’t help but stretch his uninjured hand and card his fingers through the hair right above the nape of Jonny’s neck. His thumb caresses the dip where neck meets shoulder.

It takes a while for Jonny to feel the touch but the minute he does Patrick knows it by the soft appreciative hum and the slight tilt of his head for better access. Patrick keeps the same rhythm, light touches is what he can manage. He wishes he could turn on his side, follow the same path with his lips and his tongue but he has to settle for the slight tremble his caresses cause Jonny.

Jonny turns and Patrick’s fingers fall to the sheet. He follows the motion and he’s faced with a barely awake Jonny who smiles warmly at him.

“’’morning” Jonny’s voice scratches like sandpaper.

“Good morning. Sorry if I wake you”

Jonny waves his hand dismissively “Need anything?”

 “Just bored” Patrick says “but I could go for some coffee, breakfast even” he tries to smile innocently but he doesn’t quite manage it.

Jonny runs his fingers up and down Patrick’s arm, just a ghost touch but it makes him shiver nonetheless. “Gim’ me a sec” Jonny stretches, rubs his eyes and sits upright, back on the headboard to keep him up. It gets him closer to Patrick and all Patrick has to do is turn and raise his head a bit. He does, slowly and places his lips on Jonny’s; just a peck, a soft touch.

“Haven’t brushed my teeth yet” Jonny murmurs but returns the kiss with a little more pressure.

“I don’t care. Shut up and let me kiss you”

Jonny chuckles “OK”

Patrick goes with just a tad of force this time but the angle is awkward and can’t really coax Jonny’s mouth open. He grunts and groans right on Jonny’s lips.

Jonny’s body tenses immediately in alarm “What’s wrong?”

Patrick wants to laugh at his wide-eyed expression “The angle, that’s what’s wrong”

Jonny goes to move towards him, crowd Patrick against the headboard but Patrick has other plans. “No, don’t move”

He scoots down enough to align his ass with Jonny’s thighs and flops his feet on Jonny’s. He wiggles a bit more “Are you going to help or just sit there?”

“I don’t know what you’re trying to do”

“I’m trying to get my ass between your legs. How’s that for a game plan?”

Jonny goes into thinking mode, Patrick can see it in the frown and the way his lips tilt slightly to the left. He grips Patrick’s ankles while opening his legs. Patrick almost loses his balance but Jonny’s hand finds his waist before he falls. He wiggles some more and Jonny scoots down and after a few tries and turns finally Patrick is between Jonny’s spread legs, his stretched beside them. They’re in the middle of the bed to give him enough room so he doesn’t have to bend his knees.

They just stand there not touching, limbs tangled and staring at each other. Patrick can’t really tell who leans first but his hands wrap around Jonny’s neck cast be damned as Jonny’s close around his waist and their lips finally, finally, touch.

It starts slow, exploratory, fumbling to get situated in a way the cast doesn’t dig on Jonny’s head but the moment Patrick’s fingers find that spot on the back of Jonny’s neck that makes him moan it’s all Patrick needs to slip his tongue in Jonny’s mouth and everything is forgotten. Jonny hugs him closer and Patrick tilts his head to deepen the kiss and it all goes downhill from there; tongues meshing, tussling, caressing.

It’s not enough; Patrick wants to devour Jonny’s mouth, he wants to trace every ridge and slant. There’s not an inch between them yet he burns with the need to get closer. Jonny gives as hard as he gets, pushing back, holding tighter. They rock back and forth, a fighting dance, battling for closeness but mostly for control. He always knew they’d be like that even in bed. Patrick might not have the same strength but he’s not backing down, not even when they need to come up for air; Jonny doesn’t either.

They stay there, panting, foreheads touching, eyes closed, but their hands don’t even give up a centimetre. Jonny moves first; he raises his hand from Patrick’s back to trace his eyebrow, his cheekbone and finally his bottom lip.  Patrick can’t help but take it between his lips and nip the pad of Jonny’s thumb.

“Fuck” Jonny curses under his breath

“Yeah, let’s”

He’s pretty sure Jonny’s about to tell him that they can’t and he might be right but Patrick wants to live this, in any form he can get it. He uses his left hand to rub Jonny’s dick lightly through his sweatpants. While he struggles with it Jonny sucks his breath through his teeth. He can’t believe that a simple, uncoordinated gesture like that could have such an effect on Jonny. He loves how Jonny’s eyelids shut tightly, how he catches his bottom lip between his teeth and how his breath comes out strained through his nose.

Jonny is seemingly in control, his hand still tight around Pat’s waist, the other sprawled on the side, he’s strong and healthy and whole but Patrick...small, fragile Patrick who can’t even get a good grip on Jonny’s dick because his good hand doesn’t work is the one who actually posses all the power. It’s mind blowing really and Patrick understands that he doesn’t have to fight for anything in bed...not with Jonny. Jonny’s unravelled with a single touch, no matter how much he tries not to let it show. He would be smug if he wasn’t terrified by the realisation; someone allowing you to exert such influence is formidable, with great power comes great responsibility and Patrick hopes he’s nothing less than worthy.

Somewhere between getting his hand on Jonny’s dick and his epiphany Jonny lost his patience because he now pushes Patrick’s hand away and shuffles around to get his hands on the massage oil still left on the nightstand since the previous night. He coats his palm with it and with his left one yanks both his pants and Patrick’s just enough to have access on their dicks.

He wraps his oiled fingers around both of their dicks, firmly but gently and Patrick’s lost in the sensation to appreciate how big Jonny’s hand must be to get a good grip on them. Jonny moves his fist up and down their shafts in a slow, steady motion and all thoughts leave Patrick’s mind. He’s just filing all the sensations, the smooth skin on skin contact, how they slide together effortlessly and how good Jonny’s thumb feels as it takes a swipe at his cockhead.

“Shit, Jonny. Fuck! That feels so good” he moans as Jonny pays special attention to the ridge where the head meets the shaft.

Instead of an answer Jonny does it again and Patrick cants his hips forward to get more, causing his thigh muscles to flex and hurt as he digs his foot on the bed for balance. Jonny’s hand stills “No, no Jonny... Don’t stop... please don’t stop” he pleads as he grabs Jonny’s hand with his left trying to get him to continue the strokes.

Jonny’s other hand finds Patrick’s injured leg and caresses it gently, massaging it to ease the hurt while letting Patrick guide their joint hands up and down their shafts. “Shhh...it’s ok...easy... I got you... I won’t stop” Jonny tries to say, but it comes out in strained pants.

True to his word, he gently tugs downwards and makes a twisting motion on the way down. Patrick can feel his head spinning. In his entire life, he has never experienced anything like this; his whole body feels like it’s on fire. It only takes a few more firm and quick strokes for Patrick to come while Jonny whispers encouragements. Patrick can’t make out everything but he’s sure he can hear a ‘that’s it, come on. Give it up. Come for me, Pat” and the last one is his undoing. He spasms and grunts and spills between them coating both their dicks with his release.

“You too, Jonny” he encourages when he can breathe again, tightens his hand over Jonny’s and he doesn’t care that his dick is sensitive, he wants to feel Jonny coming. “I want to see”

He looks up and catches Jonny nodding, not able to form words, the red flush travelling from his face down to his neck and chest, sweat dripping on his forehead. Patrick leans in to kiss him; Jonny opens up immediately, more than willing, eager even. There’s no finesse in the kiss, just open mouths and tussled tongues.

Patrick feels Jonny’s dick twitch against his own flaccid one, he swallows Jonny’s groan in their tangled mouths, and feels the first spurts of Jonny’s warm come on his fingers. He doesn’t know what possesses him to dethatch his mouth from Jonny’s and raise his fingers there instead...he just needs to _taste_. He puts his fingers in the hot cavity and sucks. It’s not erotic or playful, at least not on purpose but he hears Jonny curse loudly.

“Fuck...fuck...fuck... _Patrick_ ”

Patrick releases his fingers with a loud pop and looks at Jonny. He comes face to face with two dark holes, like Jonny’s irises had taken over his eye sockets. He doesn’t get a chance to say anything because Jonny crabs him and devours his mouth. There’s nothing gentle in the kiss, not the way Jonny tangles his fingers in Pat’s hair and squeezes, not in the force with which Jonny plunges his tongue or the way he bites Patrick’s lower lip. Yet under everything, Patrick can feel that this is not an assault...this is _hunger_.

 “You’ll be the death of me” Jonny groans and rests his forehead on Patrick’s.

Patrick beams and he’s sure that Jonny can feel it even if his eyes are closed.

If Patrick said he wouldn’t be smug...he lied.

 

ƾ

 

In retrospect, indulging Patrick by joining him in the tub, proved to be highly unproductive and time consuming, reckless as well. It’s like a dam broke and now they just can’t keep their hands off of each other and as satisfying as that may be it does little good to Patrick’s injuries.

They were barely even dressed when Bryan arrived and Patrick’s balance was worse than ever. Even now, sitting in the living room looking at maps there isn’t an inch of space between them, knees touching, Patrick’s left hand on Jonny’s thigh; Jonny doesn’t know exactly who’s anchoring whom.

“If we take 75 we land straight to Pembina. 59 leads us to Averson but he’ll need a car to get there. Do you know if they have a base somewhere in between?” Bryan asks Patrick

“I don’t know”

“They definitely have to have one in the border just before Pembina”

“I don’t know”

“The border crossing at Emerson was one of the busiest across the border. I thought you’d have come that way. Did they intent to keep the barracks near the toll booths?”

Patrick is both embarrassed and frustrated by the questions because there’s no answer he can give other than “I don’t know”

“Bullshit! I’m trying to help you here not bomb your fucking camp! I need to know if they were planning on advancing or just keeping guard”

“I’m not lying! I don’t know!”

“For a US soldier in the line of fire you sure as hell don’t know anything.”

“Bryan” Jonny warns and it’s low and calm but anyone in their right mind would pay attention to the rage seething beneath the surface.

“I don’t know because no one told me anything, ok? I was trained for a week, I’ve spend 48 hours in a ditch on a hill with nothing more than a canteen of  water and a rifle I didn’t even know how to shoot! I crawled in the dirt and climbed walls bleeding through my fingers trying to hold on! No one told me anything because I didn’t matter!”

Patrick doesn’t know exactly when Jonny got a hold of his hand but he can feel him squeeze it in reassurance.

Bryan seems stricken “Jesus Christ! How the hell did you end up here?”

“They hauled me in a humvee and told me to follow orders”

“Why in the hell would they do that? It makes no sense. You wouldn’t be an asset, you’d be a liability”

“MS hates my guts?” Patrick phrases it like a question but it’s nothing short of an unwilling admission.

“What the hell did you do to him, man?” Bryan asks and Patrick can feel Jonny tense beside him. He still doesn’t know the whole truth; Patrick wasn’t brave enough to admit it. Jonny still thinks that’s solely because of the altercation back in Chicago.

Patrick fidgets and tightens his grip on Jonny’s hand. He needs the comfort; he also needs Jonny to not pull away.

“There was an incident... back in 2012...” Patrick pauses because years later it’s still difficult for him to talk about it. He tried so hard to forget things that he doesn’t even remember all that clearly.

“Man, I watch the sport news...The booze and the girls and the chock-“

“I didn’t-“Patrick protests, because he didn’t, not like they made it sound and that’s been following him ever since “The thing is... that girl... her father... MS is her father”

You could hear a pin drop in the deafening silence that fills the room. Patrick wishes he could walk properly so he can hide himself in the other room.

The doorbell ringing breaks the quiet. “It must be Alec”

“Ask first” Patrick says still not looking at Jonny.

“Hey, it’s ok” Jonny whispers needlessly because Bryan is close enough to hear it anyway.

“Go answer the door” Patrick replies a bit rudely because as much as he craves the comfort he doesn’t think he deserves it; even back then, Jonny’s support cut deeper than anything people said or wrote. Jonny had his back but Jonny had a look on his face as well that Patrick could only guess it was disappointment. He never found a way to erase that image from his head.

Alec’s fallen face as he walks in makes the already dismal situation worse. “What’s wrong?” Bryan asks and if Patrick didn’t know better he’d think it was concern that filled his voice; or maybe it really was, Patrick’s not sure about much these days.

“We’re being called back”

“Now?”

“First thing tomorrow”

“What happened?” Jonny asks before Bryan got a chance to.

“Cutting our leave sort, they’re expecting payback”

“Payback for what?”

“Don’t you guys watch the news?” Everyone stays quiet “I guess not. We... we bombed their barracks just out of 75...air bombs”

There’s a collective gasp and a simultaneously exclaimed ‘Fuck’

“Are you... are we in danger?” Bryan asks and for the first time since he met him Jonny can see him losing his cool.

“I don’t think they’ll strike here...but the base, definitely. You know we have heavy artillery, our helicopters, air force food supplies they’re all there”

“And what the hell do they want with you? To be sitting targets? Has Brent been called back as well?”

“Yeah, Riley, too. I guess our successful mission that landed us the leave doesn’t count anymore”

“You’re not going!” Bryan shouts and everyone freezes

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not going!”

“Are you out of your mind?”

“Of course I am! Mentally unfit for duty!”

“Good for you, it’ll look great on you CV”

“You’re not funny, you know that?”

“You just have no sense of humour”

“And you have no sense of danger. This is madness!”

“Why the fuck do you care? You made it pretty clear you want nothing to do with me”

“I don’t-“

“Then shut up and leave me alone”

Patrick and Jonny keep alternate glances between them “They kind of remind me of us, don’t you think?” Patrick says lowly

Jonny chuckles “I was thinking the same thing”

They lock gazes for a second “Idiots” they say in unison.

“Alec-“Jonny tries “What are they planning?”

Alec seems relieved that Jonny broke the tension “We’re relocating. CFB Shilo in Brandon. It’s the closest air base with a shelter.”

“Why not today? Why wait?”

“Have you lost your mind as well?” Bryan asks Jonny the same time Alec replies “They’ve started the relocation. They’ll leave some old vehicles behind so the base doesn’t look deserted. We can’t move as a group or we’ll raise suspicion”

“Not to mention you’ll be like sitting ducks” Bryan adds “This is suicide. They’re going to come by air, there’s no way to fight that”

“We’re gonna try”

“You’re gonna get killed”

Alec shrugs “So what? It’s not like I’ll leave anyone behind. Better me than someone else who has a family”

“That’s bullshit! You have no... Fuck you! Just fuck you, Tremblay!” Bryan rushes to the balcony door and stands there gripping the railings.

Alec tries to follow him but Jonny stops him with a hand on his shoulder “I’ll go. Keep Pat company, ok?”

Alec nods and Jonny goes to find Bryan. His shoulders are hunched, his grip tight and Jonny can see the effort he makes to control his breathing.

“Hey, calm down. Deep breaths. It’s ok, Bryan...It’s going to be ok”

Bryan shakes his head “My fault...”

“It’s not your fault, Bryan”

“He...I told him...”

“I know...well, I can imagine...”

“He said he’s in love with me”

Jonny figured as much “And you told him to go away?” he phrases it as a question but he knows the answer already.

Bryan nods “But you don’t really want him to, do you?” Jonny knows that answer as well. Bryan shakes his head “It’s...”

“It’s complicated, I know, you already said. But you also told me that you’re helping me with Pat because we have something you never did...a chance. You have that now, Bryan and maybe it’s not with Hunter like you planned but Alec is a good kid and if you didn’t feel anything...the thing is, I really suck at giving advice, God knows I lived in misery for years, afraid to just take that leap of faith but you have a chance now, un-complicate it before it’s too late”

“Brent...”

“Really? You think Brent won’t understand? Brent loves you like a brother; he’d be thrilled to see you happy. He joined the army to keep an eye on you, you think-“

“Oh, God! Brent...Brent is leaving...I have to...”

“Calm down, we’ll figure it out. They can’t just leave. You’ve seen what happened with Pat, we can’t all be on the run. Just...give them both a reason to come home, Bryan. That’s all they need.”

ƾ

 

It takes them a while to get back inside. Bryan needed the time and quiet to think about his next move and Jonny wanted to be there for him. When he slides the door and steps inside he kind of wishes he hadn’t because apparently he stepped into a parallel universe where Patrick is on his feet clinging to Alec, gripping him for dear life while giggling like a 5-year old.

Jonny knows it’s irrational, that green monster that threatens to surface, he acknowledges the absurdity of the sting but he can’t do nothing but feel it; he supposes it stems from the years he had to watch Patrick with people that weren’t him.

Bryan clears his throat and saves Jonny from saying something he might regret later on. “What’s going on?”

“Alec is so awesome!” Patrick exclaims like that clarifies everything. “Jonny, Jonny- I walked, man! I walked!”

Alec laughs out loud and Jonny is more confused than ever “Alec showed me this thing, like limping but not quite. You just shift your weight on your good leg and just slide the other and boom! Walking without crutches, Jonny! It’s not like I’m going to run but I get to do it myself! Isn’t that awesome?”

Jonny really doesn’t want to answer this question because whichever way he goes, he loses. Sure, it is awesome that Patrick can somewhat walk on his own, Jonny’s ecstatic about that, it’ll give Patrick the freedom to move without help and would improve his disposition- it clearly already has BUT but Jonny is not the one to think of it- Jonny had him struggling with crutches and carried him like an invalid for days. Alec gave Patrick the freedom Jonny was unable to.

“Yeah, Pat. That’s great!” he says and he hopes he sounds sincere.

He goes to walk towards Pat but Patrick stops him “No, wait I’ll come to you”

Jonny’s about to protest because Patrick doesn’t need to overdo it but Alec butts in “Take it easy there, b’y let’s just sit for a while”

While Jonny’s advices are usually met with a pout Alec receives a mischievous half smile “Only if you play one more song”

Alec laughs and shuffles around, finally letting go of Patrick. That’s when Jonny sees his guitar resting against the couch handles.  Alec is proving to be quite handsy with people and things alike that belong to Jonny. He knows how horrible the word belonging sounds, Patrick is not his property but he is finally his to have and to hold so he can’t stop to think a politically correct phrase to use. Jonny’s a possessive, jealous bastard and unapologetic about it. Sue him; he never claimed to be perfect.

He misses something while having this argument with himself but everyone is now sited, including Bryan and Alec is reaching for the guitar. Jonny wants to smack his hand away.

“Come sit Jonny!” Patrick pats the spot next to him in clear invitation “Man, he’s so good. I didn’t even understand a word he sang because it was all French but his voice is...awesome”

Jonny starts to resent that word! “I sing” Jonny mumbles under his breath as he sits down but not low enough apparently because Patrick hears him.

“You play but you can’t sing for shit, Jonny” he says with a snort.

“I can” he protests

Truth is he can’t, unless off key and wailing is considered singing but he’s not going to admit that.

“Shhh” Patrick shushes him as Alec plays the first note of a song Jonny doesn’t recognise.

To be fair, Alec is not just good, he’s brilliant and Jonny has to remind himself that he likes the kid and it’s petty and unjust to resent him for something that lives in his insecure head alone.

Patrick claps enthusiastically when Alec finishes and even Bryan beams proudly and Jonny wants to yell at him that ten minutes ago he was angsting and pining and now he’s all star-eyed. He doesn’t, instead he compliments Alec because unreasonably jealous or not he needs to give credit where credit is due. “That was great” he offers but not with Pat’s great jubilation.

Alec blushes vividly and Jonny feels more of an asshole.

“Man, when the war is over you have to come to Buffalo. You have to! We’ll have a pool party and you’ll sing! It’s gonna be so awesome!”

Jonny is going to find the one responsible for the dictionary and demand to strike out that word!

Alec is amused “Sure, Patrick”

“Dude, call me Kaner. Everyone else does” Jonny can feel Patrick still as soon as the words come out of his mouth. They’ve been avoiding even the slightest hockey reference for so long the name seems foreign to their ears and tongues.

“Hey, it’s ok” Jonny says, scooting closer to Patrick’s side “It’s like the lockout, right? I didn’t play but I was still Tazer, eh? We’ll get it back, ok? I promise.”

He wishes he hadn’t said that when Patrick asks the question that’s been plaguing Jonny quietly for so long “You’re gonna come back to Chicago?”

Patrick needs the validation because apparently he has been wondering the same thing as Jonny _Can Jonny really return there?_

It’s not a matter of contract, or even the Blackhawks’ willingness to keep him. It’s all about Jonny returning to a place, a _country_ that so easily disposed him.

Jonny remains silent partly because he hasn’t figured it out yet, and partly because if he had to choose this very moment Patrick wouldn’t have liked the answer.

ƾ

 


	14. Day 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it...we're getting closer to the end.  
> It was a hard chapter for me to write. Tell me what you think.

 

**Day 5**

“We don’t know when the war is going to end Pat, we don’t even know if we’ll get the league back just the way it was” they’ve been circling around this conversation since yesterday and instead of a solution they have reached an impasse.

“What if we do? What then? Our contracts still stand!” Patrick isn’t sure if it’s logic or wishful thinking but he can’t handle one more thing being taken away from him.

“I don’t know. Shit, Pat- I’m not trying to be difficult and the last thing I want is to hurt you but- Do you know what it feels like being torn away from your home?”

“I know how it feels being left behind. Do you?”

Jonny sighs “I get it, ok? This is not a competition on who had it worse. We both lost everything. Just... think about it from where I stand, Pat. Would you go back if the tables were turned?”

“Yes” Patrick says hastily, without a second thought and not just because he wants to sway Jonny in that direction.

“You’d go back to a place where people might not even want you?”

“I’d go back home! Chicago is our home and the Hawks is our team and the guys are our family. Maybe hockey is just what we do but the relationships we build is who we are. The fans love you Jonny, they loved you after the two gold medals we didn’t win why would this be any different?”

“Because...because there isn’t going to be a house in that country that won’t be mourning someone Pat! Don’t you see? I’d still be the enemy to them. I’d still be the guy who killed their children and their brothers and their husbands. I don’t think they’d be a place waiting for me there”

“I will be there” Patrick says and it’s both firm and coated with sadness because even though there’s truth in Jonny’s words  they’ve decided not long ago that they’re each other’s home that they belong together, they’ve always had and it feels like suddenly that’s not enough and Patrick is not ready to face that. “I will be there and we’ll have each other and the game and the guys and maybe it won’t be the same but different is not always worse, right?”

He can see the struggle, the fight that’s going on in Jonny’s head; it’s battling with his heart and his desires, to finally be able to have the future he’d been dreaming about. He can identify it because he’s going through it as well. The whole conversation is for his benefit. He selfishly wants Jonny to reassure him that they can do it, they can have it all.

“Do we have to decide right now? Can’t we leave it for later?” Jonny asks defeatedly and Patrick’s afraid it’s his way of not flat out refusing.

“You promised... you said I’d go back till it’s safe... you said we’d have a chance then... we’ve planned this, remember? Buying a house and asking one of my sisters to carry our babies... You said we could have it all... You said no more lies, no more hiding, just you and me and our dreams... Another Stanley, a couple medals on the wall, the blond-haired baby girl in the next room...You said- A life with me, Jonny, that’s what you said the plan was. “Patrick hates himself for losing it once more; he doesn’t want to always be the emotional one but Jonny _promised_.

“It still is, Pat” Jonny confirms and Patrick lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding “but does it have to be Chicago?” he asks.

Patrick wants to be stubborn and yell yes, it has to be, they need the stability, the familiarity, the safety...but it’s not going to be safe, is it? Not in a long while; rationally he understands that. “Maybe you’re right” he relents at last. It’s not fair for Jonny to carry both their burdens “After it’s over... If we can’t get back what we had, if we can’t be happy there, we can go anywhere Jonny, anywhere. There’s not a team in the world that wouldn’t want us!”

Patrick rethinks his last statement “Well, ok maybe that’s a lie. Don’t think the Canucks would love me”

Jonny laughs and it makes Patrick’s heart swell “St. Louis wouldn’t either”

“Who would want to play there anyway?” he answers with a grin

Jonny puts on his thinking face and Patrick knows him well enough to not interrupt his process “We’ll try Chicago and if it doesn’t...if it doesn’t work out-“

“It has to...there’s got to be a place where winning is more important, right?” He knows there isn’t, not when what separates them is not rivalry but blood, he just wants to hang into a bit of hope.

 “Patrick” Jonny starts and that’s his serious talk voice “If we can’t have Chicago we’re done with the NHL. If we can’t make it work out at home then the league is not big enough to fit us”

Patrick nods in agreement. It will take a while for both countries to forgive and accept, time Jonny and Patrick don’t have to waste. “Maybe...Switzerland? Or Sweden?” he tries, he needs Jonny to know he’ll follow him anywhere, hockey is hockey but hockey (and life) with Jonny is better.

“We’ll call that plan B, ok?” Jonny says softly

They both know it’ll probably be option no1 if not their only one but they delude themselves just a bit longer...their own little maybe when the world shouts no...Just a tiny spark of hope to maybe built a fire.

ƾ

 

Jonny has Patrick pinned to the mattress. He’s looming over him, eyes dark with lust and though his fingers clutch tight at his one good wrist he’s careful not to rest his full weight on him. He’s just watching, cataloguing, memorising every little detail; that little crease on his forehead, the arch of his brows and the flutter of his lashes. He tries to count the freckles on his nose, con his full lips and that slight gap between his teeth.

“Are you going to do anything or just linger?” Patrick asks and there’s an impatient edge in his strained voice.

Jonny doesn’t answer, just stares at the blue abyss that looks back at him. Patrick shuts his eyelids, suddenly feeling exposed.

“Open your eyes” Jonny doesn’t command, he asks tenderly like it’s a wish or supplication. There’s something there that lingers, something Patrick can’t identify and it scares him. Jonny’s behaviour is scaring him. He hasn’t been the same since Patrick woke up from his nap. He didn’t get a chance to question because Jonny dragged his lower lip across Pat’s once, twice before Patrick’s lips parted and Jonny’s tongue darting between them to slip inside.

That’s how Patrick found himself here, with Jonny licking at the shell of his ear, nipping at his ear lobe, tracing the vain in his neck with the tip of his tongue.

Jonny scrapes his teeth over that same tendon, bites hard at the junction; he licks and nips and bites at Pat’s collar bones hard enough to bruise then soothes the spots with his tongue. It’s wild and raw and tender at the same time.

He traces his tongue up and down Pat’s chest, barely grazing at times, tentative others like he sweeps something of that hairless flesh; an odd mixture of bold and uncertain.

Patrick moans as Jonny’s mouth fastens at his nipple, sucking it in, with need and thirst. He tries to regulate his breathing but fails by Jonny’s ongoing assault at his senses. He gasps at a particularly hard suck and Jonny feels it in the heave of Patrick’s chest. He assuages it with his tongue once more. He lets it travel further down causing a bit of a strain in his arm as he refuses to let go of Patrick’s wrist. He drags the tip of his tongue along the muscles of Patrick’s abdomen, Patrick opening his legs more to accommodate him, and allows himself a quick glance at Patrick’s face.

It’s a mixture of serenity and pleasure but his eyes ask all kinds of silent questions Jonny is not ready to answer. He focuses on kissing Pat’s abdomen instead, tracing around the scar with his lips then goes for his hip causing Pat to jerk and gasp.

“Jonny” he breaths tagging his arm to get free “Let me touch” he pleads and Jonny as much as he wants to deny him, as much as he wants the certainty of keeping Pat in place, he can’t.

Patrick grabs a handful of Jonny’s hair but doesn’t tag. Jonny drags his teeth across Pat’s hip bone and bites down...hard. Patrick’s squirming and cursing, louder and louder as Jonny licks a broad stripe at the underside of his cock. It’s like catching stray drops of melting ice cream, again and again afraid that he might miss some and it’ll go to waste.

“Jesus” Patrick exhales as Jonny takes the head in his mouth, just the tip, tongue licking at the tip.

Jonny stops “Jonny” he says and Patrick thinks it’s probably a joke and is ready to smile but looking down at Jonny he sees nothing but black in his irises. “Say it” he demands.

Patrick doesn’t know why but in this moment it matters to Jonny “Jonny” he supplies without knowing if he needs to yell it or whisper it or just plain state it, he doesn’t even know how it sounds the minute it leaves his lips because he’s too focused on Jonny.

Jonny hums in agreement returning to task so Patrick must have done well. He sucks Patrick’s cock in his mouth, keeps on sucking until Patrick’s hand tightens in his hair and his breathing loses tempo, then forces it deeper in his mouth and swallows around it.

“Jes- Jonny” Patrick corrects himself “Jonny, Jonny” he lets out a litany

Jonny sucks him up and down one more time then lifts Patrick’s uninjured leg, rolling his hip back. It stretches and burns a little but Patrick welcomes that bit of hurt. Jonny licks at his balls and moves his lips over them. Patrick tightens his leg over Jonny’s shoulder and Jonny’s hand finds his thigh immediately massaging the flesh, calming him while sucking one of his balls into his mouth.

“Fuck! Jonny! Fuck!” is the only thing he can master

“Do you need me to stop?” Jonny rushes to ask, the vibration of his words causing goose bumps to rise all over Patrick’s body.

Patrick shakes his head before he realises Jonny can’t see him “No” it’s a protest when it meant to be an answer.

Jonny lick’s lower, a firm pressure at that sensitive spot between his balls and his hole, uses just a hint of teeth as well and Patrick goes wild.

Jonny moves his palm, places it to Patrick’s abdomen, gently lowering him, looking up at him sternly “Don’t” he says “You’re...you’re gonna strain yourself. I don’t want you hurt” It’s so soft, so tender, filled with sadness Patrick thinks and something inside him twists. He doesn’t get it.

Jonny climbs back up, his teeth closing over Pat’s lower lip pulling just a tad before his tongue delves into Pat’s mouth once more. It’s a forceful and demanding kiss this time. It steals Pat’s breath from his lungs and speeds his heart.

Jonny abruptly let go and stares at him “I want you safe...I need...I want to make you feel good”

“You do, Jonny. You always do. I wish I could...I wish I could do it for you” because that’s the truth. He hates his weak body, not being able to let go, to do the things he dreamed of. If he was whole he’d wrestle Jonny until he had him face down on the bed, mapping his back with his tongue as Jonny did his front just moments ago. He’d lick and bite at the terrain of Jonny’s ass, he’d bury himself between his cheeks and give Jonny so much pleasure.

Oddly enough, whenever he thought about sex with Jonny, back in Chicago when he did his research, fucking Jonny’s hole was not the image he went with. He was more intrigued by the possibility of Jonny letting his dick delve between his cheeks, slick with lube and head catching at the rim, just that motion again and again until he came all over Jonny’s ass.

He might have a slight obsession but there’s not a person on the planet with eyes that can fault him for that. His second best would probably be Jonny’s thighs. Straddling them and feeling the muscles flex, biting them and shoving his dick between them.

Somewhere in his daydream he forgot to pay attention to Jonny’s ministrations but he’s brought back to reality by a slick finger right at those tight, stubborn muscles between his ass cheeks; no pressure, no penetration just resting there. Jonny was looking up at him confusion written all over his face while the vain on his forehead twitching in- anger?

“Where were you?” Jonny growls

Patrick’s confused as well “Here” he says matter of factly.

“No you weren’t. What were you thinking?” Definitely anger with a hint of bitterness “Do you want me to stop?”

“NO, no Jonny. You- I was thinking of you” Patrick tries to reassure.

Jonny searches for the lie but doesn’t seem to find it “Good” he says sternly “Me, Patrick, only me” that’s a demand if Patrick ever heard any.

This is getting weirder by the second “Only you, Jonny. Only you” Patrick doesn’t lie.

Jonny nods satisfied “Can I?” he asks somewhat reluctantly, like all his forcefulness has been melt away while pressing lightly at Patrick’s entrance.

Patrick pushes back on that finger in clear invitation “Please”. It doesn’t sound like a plea at all

Jonny pushes the tip of his finger to press at the muscles but doesn’t go deeper.

Patrick clutches as him as much as he can with his left hand. None of his muscles work, like the blood had vanished from his body just to concentrate only around there where Jonny is touching him.

Jonny finally presses inside as he dunks his head and takes Patrick’s cock back in his mouth. The double assault is Patrick’s undoing; tight wet heat that envelops his dick and a wiggling finger searching inside him. Writhing and panting and pushing for more, torn between bucking up towards Jonny’s mouth or down towards his finger. Patrick is torn.

Jonny’s finger does marvellous things inside and when he reaches that spot Patrick slants his hips, pushing further into Jonny’s mouth. It seems that all his muscles actually work because he feels the pang of pain from his wounds. He bites his lips not to groan because Jonny would be able to tell and he doesn’t want it to end- he never wants it to end.

Jonny’s unaware of his turmoil, a second finger joins the first, pushes, stretches and twists and gets deeper causing a slight burn- deeper than Patrick’s own ever got because Jonny’s fingers are longer and more skilful and his mouth sucks Patrick’s thoughts, his pain, his breath away.

“Jonny, Jonny, Jonny!” Patrick yells like a mantra

“That’s it” Jonny says releasing his dick with a pop “Come for me” he demands “Scream my name”

He bents and kisses Patrick a brutal clash of tongues and teeth as Patrick bucks under him, crying out against his lips.

Jonny dives down, fastens his lips on Patrick’s cock head and presses that gland inside harder once, twice and Patrick whole body tenses, he can feel himself clenching around Jonny’s fingers, cock twitching inside the wetness that becomes more as he empties himself in Jonny’s mouth.

Jonny swallows and Patrick can feel it all around his dick. He keeps sucking and fucking him with his fingers till he feels Patrick trying to get away from the intense sensations.

When Jonny looms over him, cock in hand there isn’t another word to describe him other than feral; eyes dark and wide, sweat dripping from his forehead, lips swollen and parted and ragged breathing.

He stokes himself hard and fast, no finesse just intensity and purpose. He comes with a grunt, the first few drops hitting Patrick’s abs then Jonny aims at his chest and finally at his mouth.

There’s no way he can actually catch any of Jonny’s come but the image alone will probably drive Jonny wilder so Patrick opens up and darts his tongue out.

A growl rips out of Jonny, fierce and loud and broken like an animal receiving a lethal wound. “Jesus fucking Christ”

Jonny’s hands travel the path his seed took and rub at every inch of Patrick’s upper body while Patrick keeps his mouth open, inviting.

Jonny doesn’t seem to notice, focused on covering as much of Patrick as he can with his cum so Patrick has to pry one of his hands away and sticks his fingers in his own mouth, tasting.

Jonny jerks his hand away and claims Patrick’s mouth. Patrick can tell the difference, the mixture of their two essences, his still lingering on Jonny’s mouth. It’s a union of sorts, that’s how Patrick receives it, message as clear as Jonny staking his claim by rubbing his scent all over him.

Jonny doesn’t have to yell ‘mine’ for Patrick to get the message. He hopes Jonny receives the ‘yours’ in return as clear as he had tried to make it. He’s Jonny’s and Jonny is Patrick’s and they don’t need words for that.

 

ƾ

 

After Jonny’s shower and Patrick’s long soaking in the hot tub they’re curled around each other in bed. Patrick doesn’t know why Jonny’s allowing it now, why it is different from all the other times he wanted to cuddle and Jonny was too afraid Patrick would strain himself. He should feel content wrapped around Jonny’s arms, head resting on Jonny’s chest but the irregular beat of Jonny’s heart and the sighs he lets out once in a while, the way he can feel him under him nothing but relaxed make Patrick feel nothing but fear.

“Was...Is this...is this goodbye?” he finds the courage to ask. He doesn’t know why he uses that word except a gut feeling that tells him that the tight grip Jonny has on him is the last hope of a desperate man to hold something that is already slipping away.

Jonny taunts and Patrick feels the tension sipping through him. “I got called back”  Jonny spits out, anger and hurt evident, for once not hidden.

Patrick goes still and Jonny’s hand tightens its hold “When you were napping...I...there was a...I was... I wouldn’t have opened... I wouldn’t-“Jonny says as if Patrick would even for a second believe he’d turn him over “I was taking out the trash...I was so scared, Pat...thought they’d come to...”

Patrick burrows further into Jonny and clutches onto him “There was only one of them, gave me a piece of paper reinstating me. Said they found nothing incriminating and I’m to resume my position”

“When?”

“Day after tomorrow”

Patrick detaches himself, shaking his head vigorously “NO. NO. I- A week...ten days... I promised. Jonny, I promised” he had agreed to give Jonny that time and he doesn’t break his promises. He owes Jonny at least a couple of days more.

“Pat” defeated Jonny’s voice is like salt in the wounds

“No” Patrick insists “I’m not- I’m not ready. I’m not well enough yet”

“We can’t”

They never can, that’s their curse; fear, insecurity, misunderstandings, unawareness, the NHL, the war, the world, time, there’s always something coming between them.

“We have to leave tonight. We need to get you out before I go.”

Patrick keeps shaking his head “We have no choice, Pat. There’s nowhere for us to run anymore...it’s the end of the road”

Jonny doesn’t touch him and Patrick’s grateful because just a tiny scrape and he’ll fall apart. He doesn’t turn to look at Jonny even when he feels him getting up.

“Get some sleep” Jonny says “You need your strength and I shouldn’t have... I’m sor-“

“If you apologize I swear to God I’ll punch you” Patrick threatens but still doesn’t turn. He lies down to his side and curls into himself digging his nails in his thigh. He presses all his wounds, lying on his casted hand which digs to his abdomen while his uninjured one paints half moons on his leg. There’s not an inch of his body that doesn’t hurt but nothing pains him more than that persistent claw in his heart.

He can feel Jonny watching him; he doesn’t have to see to know that he wants to yell

“Go away” he commands with not much force because he doesn’t have any left.

Jonny doesn’t.

Of course he doesn’t. Because Jonny promised.

Jonny’s not leaving. Jonny’s being taken away once more.

 

ƾ

 

Patrick shut him out and that hurt worse than anything either government could have done to him. He tried pushing him away but Jonny stood tall, stubborn, watching Patrick’s back turned to him and enduring his silence. He couldn’t have known that the coughing fit, the plea for some water and a pill had all been a ruse. He rushed to the kitchen, trying to make Patrick’s remaining time as calm and comfortable as possible.

He returned to find the door locked and however much he asked and pleaded and knocked on it he found nothing but quiet. Jonny sat on the floor with his back on the door and talked. He talked more than he ever had in his whole life. He explained the plan and asked for forgiveness. He made no promises this time, not because he didn’t mean them but because he knew Patrick didn’t want them...not then.

Jonny couldn’t fault him. Patrick let him hold him and gave him his body and his heart and all the while Jonny had a plan to send him away. He wished there was a little corner somewhere in this universe that would fit them both together and told Patrick that much. He needed Patrick to know.

Patrick said nothing when Jonny told him he had to make preparations for their departure; he uttered no words when Jonny informed him they had an hour to go either. Jonny thought he might have fallen asleep but when the time came for them to leave and Patrick finally opened the door his eyes were droopy and red, his teeth clenched and his hairline drenched. Patrick hadn’t been sleeping; he’d been crying and suffering and Jonny hated himself that much more.

Patrick didn’t let him touch him to help him in the car, said nothing the whole ride to Bryan’s, refused any help there as well and other than a nod when Bryan greeted him there wasn’t any other acknowledgment.

Every second that passes and Patrick remains that way is one more stab of guilt to Jonny’s gut. It eases only a little when Patrick doses off in the back of the van, or at least Jonny hopes he has, it’s not like he can see him from where he’s sitting.

“We’re taking the 75; for once, closing the Emerson border crossing works in our favour. Taking the 29 would be reckless, way too many of our own to pass by.” Bryan says

“It makes sense” Jonny agrees nodding “It’s a couple of hours drive; it’ll still be dark but not dark enough to not recognise him”

“Yeah, Alyssa brought me the uniform, don’t worry. There is no way they can’t tell he’s one of them”

“Do you...maybe he should get dressed now?”

“Nah, let him rest a bit. We need to stop at Morris anyway and leave the car. There’s no way we can get passed that. They closed off the dikes so we have to go on foot from there.”

Jonny frowns “I don’t...he can’t walk that far”

“It’ll be fine Jon. We’ll help him, we’ll carry him if we have to”

“I don’t think he’ll like that”

“Are you... are you guys ok?”

Jonny shakes his head “No, not really” he sighs “I don’t know. I don’t know if he’s mad at me or just the whole shitty situation”

“You’ll be alright, don’t worry”

“Since when did you become such an optimist?”

“Good things do happen, Cap even in shitty times like this one”

Jonny raises his brow “Does this change in attitude has anything to do with a certain soldier?”

Bryan shrugs but Jonny sees the smile Bryan tries to prevent from forming “I take it it’s not complicated anymore?”

“Oh, man! Still complicated as hell but you know...I...I don’t know really. I’m just giving it a shot. Fucking war!” Bryan curses

“Yeah, about that...I got called back”

The car swerves and Bryan curses again trying to regain control “What the fuck? That’s why we...that’s why he’s leaving now?”

“Yeah, I have to be at base the day after tomorrow”

“Are you...where are you going?”

Jonny chuckles “Relax, Campbell. I’m going to your boy! I have his back don’t worry!”

“Really?”

“Are you seriously asking me that?”

“Sorry”

“Don’t be. Alec and Brent...they’re my team, even if I didn’t owe you I’d still take care of them”

“I know...I...thank you”

“Hey, I told you long ago...we’re a team, we keep each other alive and we keep each other safe”

“I don’t play well with others” Bryan admits

Jonny snorts “No way! Really? I had no idea”

“Fuck you!”

“You’re so not my type”

“Ditto!”

“Good because I don’t want to sleep with one eye open in case Alec decides to cut my throat”

“Nah, Alec would shoot you...your boy, though” Bryan shoots a glance in the mirror “he’d probably slaughter us both. It’s the quiet ones you have to be afraid of”

“I’m not sure I’m out of the woods with him yet. He might just shove me across the border and hand me to the vultures”

“Would he really do that?” Bryan questions half disbelieving half-alarmed

Jonny shakes his head “No, he wouldn’t. I’d rather he did. It beats him being broken. I did this Bryan and I can’t...”

“No you didn’t. Don’t go down that road man. I’ve been there. I’m still one foot in. It’s not worth it. All you do is suffer and make everyone around you miserable. At least that’s what’s Brent says; what do I know?”

“You told him?” Jonny’s surprised. He wouldn’t have guessed it, not so soon.

“Well... he kind of...”Bryan is flushing and if Jonny was in a better mood he’d be amused “He came by this morning to say goodbye”

“And?”

“And Alec was still there”

“Wow!”

“Yeah”

“But everything turned out ok, right?”

“Yeah, hugged me, told me how happy he was and not to fuck it up”

Jonny chuckles “I told you you didn’t have to worry about Brent”

“It was still too soon. I’m not sure...”

“I know but look at me...us...”he says gesturing towards Patrick “you don’t know when it’s going to end. Just- live it while you can. You have plenty of time afterwards”

“I can’t...If there wasn’t...If it weren’t for this fucking war... I now have two people to worry about Jon. I already lost Hunter. I don’t know if I can...”

“Don’t think like that. If we think like that we won’t survive”

“I don’t know how not to care”

“I don’t know either” Jonny confesses “I’m scared, Bryan. We plan and we scheme but I don’t know if this is the right thing. What if they shoot first and check later? What if they don’t believe him and think he...”

“Patrick has wounds Jon, surgery scars. There’s no way they’ll think he’s lying. They’ll probably just send him home. He’s going to be fine”

Jonny wishes they could pull aside and go check on Patrick. He wishes he could climb at the back of the van just to make sure. Stay there and watch him sleep just for a while longer. He regrets agreeing that the van would be a safer choice than his car.

Jonny remembers a time where he used to live for the game, for the crowd cheering and the laughter in the locker room. How did his life become a series of fear and regrets?

 

ƾ

 

They stop at Morris and hide the car. Jonny’s hungry eyes devour Patrick’s sleeping form for a while before waking him up, gently, softly, itching to touch but not daring to.

Patrick accepts the thermos with the coffee with a silent nod and Jonny sits quietly, stealing glances until Patrick’s awake enough to change into his uniform.

When they’re up and ready, Bryan hands him a gun with a silencer and in the cover of the night, they start their way to the end. No one talks, not even a whisper; it’s too dangerous. They tread lightly, the traces they leave they could barely distinguish them themselves. There a few drags from Pat’s injured leg but not much more.

They rest a couple of times, for Patrick’s sake, even if he would never ask himself. More than half way there their feet start to lug, heavy by the weight of their sorrow. Bryan and Jonny use military signs when they have to make a turn or change direction.

They’re really careful not to be seen, even more cautious for fear of bombs. They had already marked all the mined spots, at least the ones they suspected as such. It’s a blessing that the dikes are closed because that means no passage, no cars so no soldiers and hopefully no bombs; at least not before the border line.

Jonny’s hand tremble as he holds the gun, his heart races with every step that brings them closer, there’s prickliness on his fingers to touch, to comfort, his eyes do not rest on Patrick’s form, they just filch a glimpse here and there.

It takes them twice as long to reach their point but Jonny silently thanks whoever is up there and watching over them for arriving untouched.

“This is where we stop” Bryan whispers “We can’t go beyond this part”

Jonny nods and timidly turns to Patrick “This is it” he mumbles. There’s a catch in his voice and his eyes shine with unshed tears.

Bryan and Patrick hug briefly. They exchange ‘thank you’s and ‘good luck’s then Patrick looks up at him, the blue light Jonny used to adore dim and murky. “You might have to crawl a little, just half a mile that way” Jonny points “take your time; you’d be safe there. Don’t cross on your hands and knees. Walk with your hands in the air. The camp isn’t on the line so you’ll probably be seen in advance. Make sure they can see the patch on your chest”

Jonny’s stalling; it’s not like they haven’t gone over the plan already. He’s just blabbing to earn a few more precious minutes. He feels so strung out and with every second that passes and Patrick doesn’t say anything he feels what strength he has left slipping away.

“Please don’t hate me” he pleads and his voice is so small and low

Patrick surprises him by crashing into him and flinging his arms on his neck. Jonny sighs in relief, closes his arms around Patrick’s waist and buries his nose in his hair, breathing his scent.

“I love you” Patrick confesses. Jonny feels it on his neck more than hears it. He realises it has been a while since either of them said it out loud.

“I’m sorry” Jonny apologizes for not being worthy enough for that feeling, for letting him down, for allowing others to dictate their actions, for not being able to keep him.

Patrick lets go and suddenly Jonny’s arms are not the only thing that feels empty.

Patrick reaches in his pocket and shoves a box in Jonny’s palm. Jonny knows that box; Jonny had bought that box and had stashed it in his safe.

“Make me a promise, Jonny” Patrick asks

Jonny’s mouth dries up, there’s a lump in his throat and his hands are shaking as he opens the box. He takes one ring, Patrick’s ring and slides it on his finger. He clears his throat “I- I don’t want to let you down ever again. I don’t have much to give other than my word that I’ll try my best. I’ll try my best to survive this madness and find my way back to you. If that happens, I promise you a life together anyway we can get it. If- if it doesn’t...”

Patrick tries to stop him but Jonny insists “No, listen to me, you have to listen. If I don’t get back you have to know it won’t be from lack of trying. You have to know it was because there was no other way. I want you to remember me the way I’ll never forget you and the way I’ll love you...always”

Jonny’s crying now, hot tears burning tracks in his cheeks but he can’t even be bothered. Patrick chocks back sobs and tries to get the other ring. Jonny hands it to him and stretches his hand, inviting. Patrick fumbles a bit with it but finally finds its place on Jonny’s finger “I- I- I promise...I promise to never, ever take this ring off. I promise I’ll wait for you as long as it takes. You have to come back to me, Jonny because I’ll be there waiting, you hear me? I’ll be waiting and you better not take long. We’ll find each other again, I promise. We’ll meet again...in between. I promise”

They breathe their souls into that last kiss, hard and fiery, desperate and abashing. They taste of sorrow but there’s a hint of hope somewhere in that flavour.

One kiss, a split second but also forever.

Jonny waits there until there’s nothing left from Patrick’s form.

Then he waits some more.

 

ƾ


	15. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is co-written with [Zarah](http://thesecellardoors.tumblr.com/) but all the credit goes to her anyway for the constant help and support throughout this fic. Thank you, Z!  
> This is it! The end! I hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for reading and a special thanks for the lovely encouraging comments you left. It meant a lot.

**Epilogue**

**\-----NBC news report------**

_After two solid years of war and one full year of Ceasefire, the Canadian-American war has officially come to an end on paper. The economic harms of both the war and loss of an ally proved to be too harsh for the nations. Earlier today the US President noted that if America was going to stop international meltdowns or domestic issues, it would need to be done with the help of our ally. Prime Minister Williams wished for the boarder to once again become the longest unguarded boarder in history._

_The Canadian and American Permanent Joint Board of Defense will regroup to discuss the impact of the war and how the countries can come together to protect each other._

_Prime Minister Williams and President Green will meet again on Thursday to cut the ceremonial ribbon on opposite sides of the boarder. During the ceremony the names of the deceased will be read aloud, medals of honor will be handed out by both leaders, and the two countries will mourn hand in hand._

**\------NBC half time------**

"We are all celebrating the official reunion of Canada and America as allies here at the studios, but we would be lying if we said we weren't just as excited for the NHL's reunion match!" 

"Quite right, Liam. It was a rough 3 years for hockey fans on both sides. The divided leagues proved to be pretty unsuccessful in viewer ship, though the reunion hasn't been without its pitfalls." 

"That it hasn't, Mike. All we need to do is look at this tense match between the Chicago Blackhawks and the Vancouver Canucks."

"To be fair, it wouldn't be a 'Hawks vs. Canucks match-up without some tension. Peace agreement or no peace agreement."

"True, it would just be unnatural! That being said, many thought it was a risky move having the first match be Chicago vs. Vancouver. There was, of course, heighten security at the United Center” 

"I am actually glad the first match up was between Vancouver and Chicago.  If this match can remain relatively civil, I think it will speak volumes for the future of the NHL."

“I agree 100%.  The Hawks are a perfect example of talent come from both sides of the boarder. They've got the dynamic Canadian-America duo in Andrew Shaw and Brandon Bollig. Even, winger Patrick Sharp has agreed to come back next season, things are going well.

In the other corner, if any team has national pride, it's Vancouver. If a match can go un-rioted in Vancouver, it can go un-rioted anywhere." 

“Well Liam, it may be a bit too early to say the game has gone un-rioted.  We’ll need to check if the scoreboard stays in Vancouver's favor! I can’t help but notice you left a pretty important American-Canadian pair out"  

“I assume you're referring to the 1988 pair. We all heard the rumors of Jonathan Toews trying to kill his former line mate during the first year of the war, or of the war hungry Patrick Kane declaring to kill "All Winnipeg natives",  but it's safe to say that was all vicious gossip"

"I don't know where they come up with this stuff. That being said, the two weren't on a line together, its unknown if that was for personal reasons or a tactical choice made by Coach Quenneville." 

“Their lives have been so artfully intertwined I think it would take more than a war to separate that duo. Back to you, Pierre!" 

**\------ New interview with Jonathan Toews------**

**Interviewer:** _We're glad to have you back in Chicago_

**Jonathan** : It's good to be back! It's been far too long. 

**Interviewer** : _Did you ever think about signing "back home" like few other hockey players did?_  

**Jonathan** : Even with all the difficulties that the war caused and- with all due respect to Winnipeg, Chicago is my home. This city has the organization I love, the arena I love, the pers...-people I love. 

**Interviewer:** _The match was obviously a heated one with a lot of outside pressure. Were you thinking about the implications of the match?_

**Jonathan** : My thoughts solely revolved around winning and making the fans proud. I’m glad we were able to rally our forces and come back strong in the last period. Our fans had to go through a lot of extra security and I just wanted to make it worth it for them.

**Interviewer** : _How has the fan support been for you? We saw a few hecklers wearing the "traitor #19" jerseys._

**Jonathan:** So far it’s been mostly positive; Chicago has some of the most loyal fans in the world. I am so grateful for them. I know there will always be some hecklers out there, but I also know that they are coming from a place of hurt and pain. I'll always be respectful of them, even if they can't return the favor.

**Interviewer:** _Would you say scoring the game winner was your favorite moment?_

**Jonathan** : No I wouldn't. The national anthem is always a beautiful moment  at the United Center, but seeing the two flags being raised together after so long made it very special. 

**Interviewer** : _Moving on, many people are itching to know what happened during the incident between you and Patrick Kane three years ago._

**Jonathan** : I really can't say. That incident was something between our bases, not us. I don't really feel comfortable talking about it. 

**Interviewer** : _But you've heard the rumors circulating, haven't you?_

**Jonathan** : I have. If people want to speculate on my intentions during the war, they can do so....but I am going to clear the air right now: Patrick Kane never hurt anyone, nor did he ever wish to.

**Interviewer:** _Former President Obama will be handing out the medals of honor to the Canadian soldiers, how do you feel about that?_

**Jonathan** : I honestly don't feel like I deserve the honor....but it's always great seeing Mr. Obama. I’m really happy all leaders, former and current, will be handing them out together. It gives a sense of closure.

**Interviewer:** _Well you did help maneuver those American civilians that stumbled upon a mine field. How many hockey players can say they won a gold medal and a war medal?_

**Jonathan** :...I guess not many, but I didn't do anything special.  I just knew that civilians were civilians, no matter what. I know that philosophy was the same for Kaner too. It was a team effort in the end. I was lucky enough to be surrounded by people who were not blinded by pure hate.

**Interviewer:** _What was it like seeing Patrick Kane again after all this time?_  

**Jonathan:** You know how hockey players, myself included, can’t explain in words the most intense feelings? We kind of relate everything in hockey terms or scaling them from winning the cup to losing the chance in the 7 th game? Seeing Pat again was something like that… something I can't describe, nor forget.  

**Interviewer** : _We talked to Patrick before and he was talking about the ring-_

**Jonathan:** -The what?!

**Interviewer:** _You know… that championship ring you have on your right hand._

**Jonathan:** Oh right sorry...had a brain freeze.  Yeah, we thought it would remind everyone that even though we are from different nationalities, we are united. Since more than just our core is pretty much the same, we decided it was a sign of solidarity. Sharpy’s absent at the moment so he can’t whine that they clash with our other jewelry. *chuckles*

**Interviewer:** _So you and Kane are on good terms?_  

**Jonathan** : Great terms! I guess I'm not really supposed to say this, but we just resigned our 8 year contract. 

**Interview** : _Oh, so that explains the "Congratulating on the commitment" tweet from Brandon Bollig_

**Jonathan** :...uh yeah. He could have just been referring to the babysitting job I’ve committed myself to. 

**Interviewer:** _What do you mean?_

**Jonathan** : haha, I'm rooming with Kaner once again. We thought it would help put us back on track with becoming line mates again, that is if we don't kill each other....umm....could I get that cut out? Perhaps that joke was a little too soon. 

**Interviewer:** _haha, No chance! Thanks for being here Jonathan_!

**Jonathan** : Always a pleasure, thanks for having me.

 

ƾ

 

“Man, you should have seen your face” Patrick practically chokes with laughter

“It wasn’t funny asshole!” Jonny’s beetroot red

“No, no...you’re right. It wasn’t funny- It was hilarious” he continues to mock

“Why do you have to be such a dick?” Jonny pouts

“Hey, come on, don’t be like that” Patrick tones it down “It was just...when he said ring...dude, your eyes went huge and I could see you forehead vein popping for a sec”

“I thought you told them!” Jonny protests

“I wouldn’t” he reassures

“Yeah, I know but...it could have slipped. I mean...I almost blurted out we live together! it’s...I was just surprised.”

“I know, but it was kindda funny”

“Yeah, I guess”

“Hey, _we_ decided to wait”

“I know...just...with everything...” Jonny runs his fingers through his hair “I don’t like lying and I don’t like hiding but-“

“It’s not the right time” Patrick finishes “ It’s all a little rocky still, Jonny but it’s better than we had expected, right? I mean...I know it’s not easy for you...” he hates it that people call Jonny names, that direct death glares at him at times, he hates that he can’t really defend him the way he wants to.

“It’s ok, Pat. Like you said, it’s better than expected”

“It’s not ok but hey, you’re still the hero! You had to outshine us all with your game winning goal!”

“I am pretty great!” Jonny smirks

Patrick chuckles but nods. Usually he wouldn’t want to inflate Jonny’s ego but things haven’t been easy and Jonny needs the validation even if he would never admit it.

“How about we skip dinner and I’ll show you my appreciation?” Patrick leers and grins, fingers hooking on Jonny’s belt loops tugging him closer.

Jonny fastens his mouth with Patrick’s and nips and tugs at his bottom lip enough to coax Patrick to open for his tongue.

Just when the kiss turns heated Patrick’s phone goes off. Jonny pulls away first groaning as Patrick tries to keep him close.

“Your phone” Jonny grunts

“Just let it ring” Patrick lifts his head as he clasps the back of Jonny’s head to bring him closer.

The phone stops and Jonny can feel Patrick’s smug grin against his lips. He slides his hand right down Patrick’s ass, clinches his palm there, tight enough to pull him closer. Patrick makes a sound low in his throat and lets himself be guided, smugness forgotten. ‘Mission accomplished’ Jonny thinks and almost smirks himself but instead Patrick goes on his tiptoes and tilts his hips aligning their cocks together and Jonny’s brain forgets everything but the way Patrick feels and tastes.

Patrick pushes them both, directing them towards the couch without breaking the kiss. Just as Jonny’s legs hit the armrest, Patrick’s phone goes off again.

“Just answer it already!” Jonny’s annoyance is evident in his tone. Patrick knows it’s not directed at him. They’re both tired and horny and all they planned to do was getting each other off and going to bed as soon as humanly possible.

“What?” Patrick barks at his phone not bothering to see who the caller is. “Oh, hey Jacks. No, I’m fine…Jonny’s fine too. Yeah… No I didn’t see it. Ok, I’ll take a look at it tomorrow. Yes, Jackie, tomorrow. We’re not in a hurry and we’re kind of tired…No, dumbass it’s not code for sex…Whatever…Yeah, ok, later…Love you too, bye”

Patrick expects to see Jonny’s raised brow in questioning but all he sees is Jonny shaking his head and smiling down on his own phone. Patrick didn’t even hear it ring.

“What’s so amusing?”

“Bryan’s driving Alec crazy! He says he might not wait for the medal ceremony and just leave his sorry ass there and take you up on that pool party offer”

Patrick chuckles “Wrong season for a pool party but sure! He’s always welcome”

“It’s not like he’d actually do it. He just likes to rile Bryan up”

“What did he do this time?”

“Just the usual worrying and fretting.”

“Alec’s fine now. He’s even done with the military! Can’t he just ease up a bit?”

“There’s a better chance of Hell freezing over. You don’t just shake off four months of watching someone you love hooked on life support not knowing if they’re going to wake up or not”

“Yeah…” Patrick is so glad he never had to find out what that feels like “Tell him to come anyway! I bet Bryan will hit the roof”

Patrick should probably be concerned about the satisfaction he gets from annoying people but it’s too much fun to even bother.

Jonny tosses his phone on the couch “I’ll answer him later. What did Jackie want?”

“She sent another list” Patrick says and Jonny groans

“God! Why couldn’t we have just asked Erica? She’s less annoying!”

Patrick laughs hard “You just don’t want to deal with Jacks because you’re scared of her”

Jonny scoffs “Your sister doesn’t scare me”

“Dude, you’re terrified to even argue with her. That’s why she keeps sending me lists and I’m playing advocate.”

“I was busy”

“No you weren’t! You’re just afraid to say no to her.”

Jonny doesn’t bother to argue but he’s not just about to admit the truth either “Whatever! What is it that she wants this time?”

Patrick shrugs “Didn’t read the list. She says no to your shakes though and demands more chocolate in the nutrition plan”

“God! Maybe we should have opted for adoption instead”

Patrick frowns “You don’t mean that”

Jonny shakes his head and sighs “No but you know I wouldn’t mind it either, right?”

“I know” Patrick answers and approaches Jonny tugging at his hand and running his finger over Jonny’s ring “But we promised”

“Yes…yes we did” Jonny confirms. He tugs Patrick closer and hugs him tight.

They promised.

And they’re already half way there…

 

ƾ

**Author's Note:**

> if you have a prompt/request or you just want to say hi, come find me on [tumblr](http://oflovesandlikes.tumblr.com/)


End file.
